The Seventh Year Itch
by Knight-to-H3
Summary: Post-DH/Pre-Epilogue. Ron and Hermione return to Hogwarts for their seventh year while Harry is off on a world tour.
1. August Beginnings

**A/N: **The title of this story is a pun; a play on the term "seven year itch" (meaning a time when married couples become bored and dissatified with the rut their marriage has become, usually occurring around the seventh year of marriage) and the fact that Ron and Hermione will be returning for their seventh year of schooling at Hogwarts. It takes place after the war but prior to the Epilogue in _DEATHLY HALLOWS_, so all of the books serve as canon, and this story only becomes AU during the 19 years prior to the Epilogue.

Originally, this was to be the first story I posted under this penname, but a friend of mine was depressed and I had to cheer her up with some slash smut. **_Taken to Task_**, which featured the unusual (I would hope) pairing of Harry Potter and Seamus Finnegan.

Speaking of smut, though it may take a while to actually appear, this story will feature sexual situations and adult language...hence the M-rating. This is a multi-chpater fic and as of yet, the ending is not in sight, so I can't say for certain how long it will be. But, if you're so inclined, strap in, settle down, and we'll take the trip together.

**DISCLAIMER: **Obviously, the characters and such belong to J.K. Rowling.

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_**The Seventh Year Itch  
**_**Chapter 1  
"August Beginnings"**

_***!!A Daily Prophet Exclusive!!***  
_"_GOLDEN TRIO NO MORE..."  
__by Ganymede Sprok_

_Whether you call them "the Golden Trio" or simply "those meddling kids", chances are if you think of one, you think of all three: Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger._

_For the last seven years, the Hogwarts Three has been inseparable, but this fall…for the first time since they were impressionable First Years walking through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…Harry Potter and his friends will be going their separate ways._

_On the First of September, Harry Potter's sidekicks, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, will be going back to Hogwarts for their Seventh Year; to finish their education and sit their NEWTs after a year-long sabbatical brought about by the war. And while Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger continue their education Mr. Potter will have his hands full._

_The savior of the wizarding world, Harry Potter will be off seeing the world that he just saved. Wizarding governments from across the globe have requested Mr. Potter's presence at various celebrations in his honor, and he has seen fit to honor their requests._

_Countries around the world, from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe, are clamoring to get a close up look at the Boy-Who-Lived, and thanks to some coaxing from our own acting Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr. Potter will be spending the next year on a goodwill tour, seeing each and every one of those countries as they honor him for his role as the man who destroyed You-Know-Who once and for all._

Ron Weasley was frustrated. He and Hermione Granger had been inseparable since the war ended three months ago, and yet, during those three months, they had spent almost no alone time together.

That wouldn't have been so bad if the two of them were still _just_ best friends, but Hermione was his girlfriend now…she had been since shortly after the final battle of the war…and except for some rather mild kissing and an interrupted snog or two, Ron had had absolutely no chance of getting Hermione alone for some _quality_ time.

As soon as the final battle at Hogwarts was over, there were survivors to search for and bodies to recover, wounded to tend to and dead to bury; that included a small, private funeral service in the garden of the Burrow for Fred.

Once the last of the dead were laid to rest, it was time to travel to Australia and help Hermione search for her parents. While this seemed the perfect opportunity for them to be alone and to progress into a more physical relationship (they shared a bed the entire time, after all), Hermione was under too much stress and Ron agreed to wait until her parents were back home before they tried to take their relationship any further. Of course, he never imagined it would take two months to find the Grangers, undue Hermione's memory charm, and bring them back home.

When they returned to England and Hermione went about getting her parents settled back into their old life, Ron found his brother George attempting to drink himself into oblivion over the loss of Fred, his mother beset by such despair that she did little more than cry and sleep all day, and Harry Potter blaming himself for all of it and spending each and every day brooding down by the pond in the Burrow's back garden.

An awards ceremony to honor those who fought and died in the war came and went, and the pride felt from the receipt of Orders of Merlin was tainted by the Malfoys who had somehow managed to avoid imprisonment on a technicality. Harry continued to brood.

By the time the end of July was in sight, with the first annual Harry Potter Day celebration, Ron had managed to get George off the bottle and back to work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. His mum was almost back to her old self, cooking and cleaning and fretting over her "babies". Harry, of course, continued to brood.

August was upon them, and still Ron and Hermione hadn't found much time to be together, with Ron helping out in George's shop and Hermione making up for lost time with her parents. And then today, just this very morning, Hogwarts letters came, and for the first time all summer, instead of fretting over the fact that he and Hermione had yet to get much past kissing in their relationship, Ron was worried about breaking her heart.

Hermione was so excited about going back to Hogwarts for her final year, and she had her heart set on Ron going with her. Harry had already dealt her a demoralizing blow earlier in the summer when he informed everyone that he absolutely refused to return to Hogwarts. Ron didn't want to go back to school either, but he knew Hermione would be crushed when he told her…especially when she learned what was included with his letter.

"So, what are you going to tell her?"

Ron looked up at the sound of the voice from across the room. Harry sat on the camp bed in Ron's attic bedroom at the Burrow, absentmindedly flipping a scarlet-and-gold badge back and forth between his fingers.

"The truth, I reckon," Ron said with a shrug. He moved towards Harry and snatched the badge out of his hand, first shooting a look at the badge and then shooting a look at Harry, "You're really not going back?"

Harry shrugged and shook his messy-haired head, "I already accepted Kingsley's offer: Auror training without NEWTs; how could I resist?"

"Was that before or _after_ he announced the Harry Potter World Tour?" Ron asked with a chuckle, knowing just how much Harry would _hate_ the media circus his life was about to become.

"Before," Harry grumbled, scowling at the thought of being the Ministry's poster boy for the next year.

Ron sniggered at Harry's misery, and when Harry shot him a two-finger salute, it just made Ron laugh harder. His laughter died, however, at the frantic sound of footsteps racing up the rickety stairs towards his bedroom.

The door banged open and Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. Her own Hogwarts letter was in her hand.

"Did you…did you get…?" She spotted the badge in Ron's hand and let out a shriek. "I knew it!" she said, excitedly brandishing her letter, "Me too, Ron, me too!"

Ron looked down at the badge in his hand and quickly tossed it back to Harry, "No, it's Harry's…not mine."

"It…what? Harry's?" Hermione's jaw dropped and her eyes flashed briefly with disappointment, "Are you sure? I mean, you weren't even…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she looked at Ron, trying to see how he was taking the news.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry said, shoving the badge back inside his envelope, "I'm sending it back. Professor McGonagall will have to pick someone else to be Quidditch captain."

"Don't be silly, Harry, you're --…what? _Quidditch_?" Hermione stormed over to Harry and snatched the envelope out of his hand and yanked out the red-and-gold pin with the silver "C" engraved on it, "QUIDDITCH?!"

"Yeah, 'Mione, Quidditch," Ron laughed from behind her, "What did you think we were talking about?"

"You know perfectly well I thought it was a Head Boy's badge, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione railed, turning on him and smacking him repeatedly with the envelope Harry's Hogwarts letter had come in.

"Geroff! Geroff!" Ron laughed putting his hands up to cover his face, so happy that it was an envelope Hermione was attacking him with this time instead of an angry flock of birds, "Come on, Hermione…Harry's badge is Gryffindor colors; you know perfectly well the Head badges are silver."

"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded, calming down and pushing several frizzy strands of hair out of her face, "I was just hoping that…I mean, with all we _did_…"

"You _did_ get Head Girl, didn't you, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up at his disappointed friend.

"What? Well, yes, Harry, I --…"

"Of course she got Head Girl," Ron said, cutting across her. He beamed at her, confident in his girlfriend's abilities, "Didn't you hear her going on about it when she came in? Besides, old McGonagall would have to be mental to choose anybody but our Hermione."

"Yes, I made Head Girl," Hermione confirmed, blushing at Ron's heartfelt pronouncement, "I _had_ hoped that Ron had made Head _Boy_, but it was just your Quidditch badge he was holding, Harry."

Harry nodded and was just about to tell her Ron's big surprise, but Hermione continued talking non-stop.

"It's alright if you're not Head Boy, Ron," Hermione said, fighting back her disappointment as she reached out and took his hand, patting it comfortingly, "You're still a prefect, and since it's the Heads' job to make up the patrol schedule for the prefects, I'm sure I can arrange for us to patrol together…just like we used to."

"Come on, Hermione, you know perfectly well that the Head Boy and Girl patrol together…you can't just go changing that," Ron said, adopting a serious tone for the first time since she arrived, "Besides, I'm not a prefect anymore…McGonagall made that perfectly clear in my letter."

"What?!" Hermione gasped, eyes widening, "She couldn't…she wouldn't…! Professor McGonagall wouldn't just _strip_ you of your prefect's badge, Ron; what did the letter say? Let me read it!"

"You don't need to see my letter, Hermione," Ron said stubbornly, "I'm perfectly capable of reading and understanding things on my own."

"I never said you couldn't…why are you being like…oh, just give me the letter, Ronald!" Hermione stomped her foot like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. In a fit of cheek, Ron lifted his letter high over his head, well out of reach of the much shorter girl. This caused her eyes to narrow and her nostrils flare, "_Ronald!!_"

Ron couldn't help laughing, "Have I ever told you you're beautiful when you're angry?"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed wordlessly several times and she blushed profusely at Ron's words. Harry's sniggers from behind her brought Hermione back to the situation at hand and she whirled on him, eyes blazing, "Quiet, Harry!"

"Yeah, shut it, you!" Ron laughed, pointing at his friend but still keeping his Hogwarts letter held well above his head. Harry once again made a vulgar hand gesture at Ron causing the redhead to laugh harder.

Hermione whirled once again, this time to return her aggravated glare at Ron. She looked from the wide smile on his face to his twinkling blue eyes to the letter mockingly held out of her reach and she fairly growled in frustration, "Ugh…boys!!"

"Hey, we're _men_, Hermione," Ron protested jokingly, "Get it right!"

"Well, you certainly don't _act_ like men, Ronald Weasley," Hermione huffed, turning on her heel and storming towards the door, "So I stick by my earlier assessment…_boys!_"

"_Witches…_" Ron mocked as Hermione opened the door, "Eh, Harry?"

Before Harry could respond, however, Hermione stopped, her hand poised over the doorknob. She looked to be considering something before turning slowly towards her two best friends once more, her hand reaching behind her back.

"Thank you, Ron, for once again reminding me that I am, in fact, a witch," Hermione said, calmly, with a devilish twinkle in her chocolate brown eyes and a mischievous smile on her lips, _"Accio Ron's letter!"_

Hermione pulled her wand out of her back pocket and had Summoned Ron's Hogwarts letter right out of his grasp before the surprised redhead could do anything to prevent it. He started charging at her, intent on retrieving his letter, but with an excited squeal Hermione turned on the spot and Disapparated, leaving Ron to slam painfully into his bedroom door and causing Harry to roll on his bed with laughter.

Ron would have made a rude comment to Harry for laughing at him when he was so obviously in pain, but the sound of Harry laughing after spending so much time going off on his own and moping made Ron almost throw himself against the door again, just to keep Harry laughing.

Suddenly, a loud, joyous scream echoed from the back garden, letting the boys know just exactly where it was that Hermione had vanished to. Harry smirked up at his best friend, getting up off the bed and heading for the door.

"She knows now," Harry said, opening the door and making his way out of the room, "Looks like it's time for that truth thing you were going to tell her."

"Y'know, Harry," Ron grumbled as the Boy-Who-Lived grinned at his displeasure, "Sometimes I regret saving your life all those times."

Harry let out a bark of laughter reminiscent of his dead godfather and left the room. Ron wasn't alone for long, however, because seconds later Hermione appeared, Apparating back into the room, and throwing herself at Ron.

"Head Boy!!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately, "I knew it! I knew you could do it, Ron!! Your mother is going to be so proud…_I'm_ so proud!!!"

Ron smiled bashfully at the way she gushed over him, but he wasn't about to ruin the moment…and the kissing…by telling Hermione that he didn't plan on returning to Hogwarts. He felt guilty about it, but he decided to give in to his libido and let the snogging continue.

After several minutes, Hermione pulled away from his mouth. Both of them were breathing heavily and their cheeks were equally flushed. She reached up and caressed his cheek, her deep brown eyes twinkling with passion just for him.

"Head Boy," Hermione repeated, running her fingers down his cheek and over his chin, causing Ron to tingle. "This year is going to be so much fun, Ronald. No Voldemort, no Death Eaters, no vindictive Ministry hag with her own agenda…no more hiding our feelings from each other. It's going to be wonderful."

"Yeah, about that…" Ron began, but Hermione didn't seem to be listening. She took her wand out and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door. "Hermione, what're you…?"

She smiled playfully as she pushed him backwards until his legs bumped against the side of his bed and he dropped down into a sitting position on it. "You're so tall," Hermione said, moving her fingers through his hair, "I love how tall you are, Ron, but sometimes it makes kissing you difficult."

"I'm sorry…?" he said, looking up at her with confusion clouding his blue eyes.

"Don't be silly, Ronald," she replied, moving onto the bed to sit next to him, "You needn't apologize for your height anymore than you need apologize for your wonderful red hair or those gorgeous blue eyes or these cute freckles," she ran her finger teasingly over a line of freckles across his nose, "It's part of who you are, and I love it…just like I love you. Now…where's your Head Boy badge?"

"In the drawer," Ron said, pointing at his bedside table.

"Put it on," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling.

"Why?"

"Just do it, Ron," she urged, "For me?"

Puffing out an exasperated sigh, Ron opened his bedside table drawer and pulled out the silver Head Boy badge. He pinned it to the front of his faded old t-shirt and gave her a look. "Satisfied?"

"Almost," she said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips moved back-and-forth together, and when Hermione's tongue pressed against Ron's lips, he eagerly opened up for it. "Mmmm…Head Boy…" she fairly purred once she pulled away, eyes glazed with passion. She began running her hand across Ron's chest, allowing her fingers to brush teasingly over the silver badge pinned there.

Ron gazed questioningly at Hermione; she was behaving a bit strangely, and he wasn't sure what was going on. For the briefest of instants, he feared that she wasn't who she appeared to be. A cold trickle of fear, left over from the war, ran down his back as he considered the woman in front of him might not actually be his Hermione.

"Err…'Mione," he began, his voice cracking slightly from nerves, "When I came back to the tent that night during the hunt…the night Harry and I destroyed the locket…what was the first thing you did when you saw me?"

"I…what?" she looked confused, wondering why Ron would bring that up now of all times.

"Just answer me…please," he said, keeping an eye on her as he slowly inched his hand over to his bedside table where his wand sat atop a pile of _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle_ comic books.

"Well, I more or less called you an arse and began hitting you," she answered, searching his eyes for some sort of explanation for what was going on, "Why?"

"Just making sure it was you," Ron explained, moving his hand away from his wand.

"Just…? You didn't think it was _me_ sitting here?" Hermione asked indignantly, "So who did you think it was?!"

"I dunno," he shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Is it so hard to believe, Ronald, that I might enjoy some alone time with my Head Boy boyfriend?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Wait…" Ron looked at her, then down at his chest where she continued to run her fingers over the silver badge there, "You're like this because of the pin!"

Hermione blushed, pulling her hand away as if burned. She quickly looked away from Ron, not wanting to let him see the embarrassment crossing her face, "Honestly, Ronald, I don't know _what_ you're talking about!"

"The Head Boy's badge makes you…randy!" Ron laughed, a staccato guffaw that made Hermione wince.

"I most certainly do _not_ get…_randy_," Hermione snapped embarrassedly, almost whispering the last word, "And if I _did_…which I don't…I assure you it would take more than _you_ to get me _that way_, Ronald Weasley!"

"Y'know, it's okay if it does, Hermione," he said, putting an arm around her and leaning in to kiss the pulse-point on her neck…a move that had proven to make her quiver the few times he'd had a chance to kiss it in the last few months, "Thinking about you dressed up in your Head Girl robes, looking all prim and proper does the same thing for me."

"What?!" she turned around to face him so fast that their foreheads knocked together painfully. The two of them hollered in pain and pulled away from each, holding their sore noggins.

"Fuck's sake, Hermione!!" Ron growled closing his eyes as bright flashes went off in his vision.

"Sorry…owww…sorry…" Hermione whimpered. She was in too much pain to even bother correcting Ron's cursing.

It was several minutes before either one of them felt like talking again. Once their heads had ceased throbbing, however, it was Hermione who spoke up.

"Did you really mean that, Ron?" she asked, looking timidly at him, her cheeks still crimson, "About me and my Head Girl robes?"

A huge grin spread across Ron's face, and he nodded vigorously, "Absolutely. If you knew some of the things I've imagined…well…actually, I'm rather glad you _don't_ know some of the things I've imagined. It's probably safer for _me_ that you don't!"

Hermione's eyes widened. She didn't want to think about the sorts of things Ron might imagine about her; she was already embarrassed enough. After all, she had imagined some rather…inappropriate…scenarios involving Ron both in and out of his robes – whether they were Head Boy robes or _any_ sort of robes, it didn't really matter.

"So, then, I suppose this year at Hogwarts is going to be rather…interesting…for the two of us," Hermione said, trying not to think about what they might do in abandoned classrooms on their late night patrols, "The Head Boy and Girl share a common room and have to spend an awful lot of time…alone…together."

Ron gulped, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat at the thought of having so much time to spend alone with Hermione. He wanted that more than anything, but the last thing he wanted was to go back to school in order to get it.

"Hermione, listen…about going back to Hogwarts…"

"Yes, Ron?" she looked up at him expectantly, her embarrassment seeming to fade a bit and her cheeks returning to their more natural hue.

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts with you."


	2. The Truth Comes Out

**A/N: **Sorry for ending the last chapter on a cliffhanger, but sometimes it has to be done. Now I give you Chapter 2...in which Ron and Hermione duke it out (proverbially) over going back to Hogwarts.

I hope to have Chapter 3 done in a couple of weeks, but I'm not really sure; it's been slow going trying to write it, because I'm also working on some other stories. I'll do my best, though.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters or anything (except the plot); it al belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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**_The Seventh Year Itch  
_Chapter 2  
"****The Truth Comes Out"**

"What do you mean, _you're not going back to Hogwarts_?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at Ron.

"I thought I was pretty clear," Ron said grumpily. He didn't want to get into a row with Hermione, but he knew the chances of _not_ having an argument were pretty slim now. "I'm. Not. Going."

Hermione jumped to her feet, and just that quickly, the romantic mood…and the chances for a passionate snogging session and anything else…was ruined. Hermione's eyes still burned with passion…but it was a passionate anger that flared in her chocolate orbs now.

"Why wouldn't you _go_, Ronald?" she asked in a voice that was laden with frustration, "You're going to be Head Boy!"

Ron snorted derisively, "That doesn't matter to me, Hermione. Why put up with exams and homework and all that other rubbish if I don't have to?"

"You haven't taken your NEWTs, Ron!" Hermione yelled as if _that_ were the ultimate answer, "What are you going to do for a living without any NEWTs?!"

"Simple," Ron argued, folding his arms across his chest, "Kingsley offered me a spot in Auror training with Harry. I'll work at George's shop for a year while Harry does his tour and then I'll join the Aurors with him like we planned."

"You'd really rather work at the joke shop instead of coming back to school with me?" The anger had left Hermione's voice and was replaced, instead, with hurt and sadness. Her voice cracked as she spoke, "Ron…I don't want to be away from you for a whole year; not now…not after all we've been through. I suppose I don't _need_ to sit my NEWTs; I mean, if Kingsley was willing to let you and Harry join the Aurors without them, maybe _I_ can find a position somewhere without taking them."

"Hermione…you can't be serious," Ron said, looking agog at her, "You told me once that you dreamed of finishing Hogwarts ever since you received your letter and found out that you were a witch. Hell, your entire school career since I've known you has been leading up to one day becoming Head Girl! You're telling me that you'd give all that up just to be with me?!"

There were tears in her eyes when she nodded her head, "Yes, Ron. For you, I would give up everything."

Ron's heart sank. There was no way that he could allow Hermione to make that sort of sacrifice for him; she'd regret it one day, and she'd wind up resenting him for allowing her to choose him over her dreams.

"No."

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened and she looked stunned, "What do you mean, _'no'_?"

"I'm not going to let you do that, Hermione," Ron insisted, "You cannot give up on you dream for someone like _me_."

"You can't tell me what to do, Ron," she replied, "I'd rather not finish school than be away from you for an entire year."

"So what you're saying is that either we _both_ go, or neither of us goes?" he looked incredulous as he realized what she was saying, "That's blackmail, Hermione."

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes, "Stop being so dramatic! I'm not blackmailing you."

"No, all you're doing is saying that if I don't go back to Hogwarts with you, you're going to give up on the dream you've had since you first got your letter. So I get to be the arsehole who kept you from living out your dream."

"Ron, I never said --…"

"You don't have to _say_ it, Hermione," Ron said angrily, "Whether you say it or _not_, if I let you give up on completing your Hogwarts education, I'll _be_ an arsehole! And, frankly, I think I've failed you enough in the past, so you'll excuse me if I don't want _this_ on my head as well!"

"When have you _ever_ failed me, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione asked in exasperation.

"When have I _not_?" he replied, "First Year, I nearly got you killed by a troll and then I was knocked out by the White Queen so you and Harry had to go after Voldemort without me! Second Year, I hexed myself instead of Malfoy when he called you a Mudblood, and then I let you go off by yourself and get petrified. Third Year, I blamed you and Crookshanks for Scabbers' disappearance and I broke my leg so I couldn't help you rescue Sirius and Buckbeak. Fourth Year, I waited too long to ask you to the Yule Ball and then got jealous when you went with Krum. Fifth Year, I let you nearly get killed in the Department of Mysteries. Sixth Year, there was the whole Lavender Brown situation. And this past year, during the Horcrux hunt, not only did I abandon you and Harry so the two of you nearly got killed in Godric's Hollow, but I wasn't able to keep that bitch Bellatrix Lestrange from torturing you at Malfoy Manor! Merlin, Hermione, all I've _ever_ done is let you down! Well, not this time; you're _going_ back to Hogwarts!"

"Good Lord, Ron, would you _listen_ to yourself?!" she said in a scolding tone, "You _saved_ me from the troll and you sacrificed yourself on the chessboard…we _never_ would have beaten Professor McGonagall's chess set without you, you defended my honor, you faced down giant man-eating spiders to try to help me, you stood up to an escaped maniac on that broken leg, and _none_ of us were prepared for what happened in the Department of Mysteries! And need I remind you, not only did you come back, save Harry's life, recover the Sword of Gryffindor, and destroy Slytherin's locket, but _you_ are the one who got me out of Malfoy Manor."

"I couldn't help noticing you had nothing to say about Fourth and Sixth Years," Ron said darkly, apparently ignoring the positive things she had to say about him.

"Oh my God, Ron," Hermione cried in exasperation, "Yes, those years you were a real prat…but we _both_ made mistakes those years. For instance, despite you trying to talk to me and repair our friendship, I continued to ignore you until you were poisoned. You nearly had to die before I would swallow my pride and try to make amends. We're, neither one of us, perfect, Ron."

"This isn't about you, though, Hermione," he said, causing her to arch an eyebrow at him, "Well, it _is_, but it _isn't_. This is about _you_ needing to go to Hogwarts whether I go or not because that's always been your dream!"

"Dreams change, Ron!" she said, frustrated, "Ultimately, whether or not I return to school is _my_ decision…and I've decided I don't want to go back if you're not going to be there."

"McGonagall's going to _love_ that excuse when you write the letter telling her you're not going to accept Head Girl after everything you went through these last seven years," Ron said, trying to play on Hermione's loyalty to her favorite teacher, "I should be expecting a Howler from her once you've owled her…unless she shows up in person and hexes me."

"That wouldn't happen, Ron," Hermione said, stifling a smirk, "Professor McGonagall is much too busy to come all the way down here to hex you."

Ron looked at her and did his best to glare menacingly at her. Of course, once she smiled at him, he couldn't help but smile himself. He stalked over to her and swept her into his arms, kissing her briskly, "You're a pain in the arse, you know that?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose and gave him a mock angry look, as if taking offense at his comment, "Language, Ronald," she scolded teasingly. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss.

Several minutes passed, but when they finally came up for air, Ron brought up the subject at hand once again, though he was tempted to just forget about it and settle in for a nice long snogging session.

"Bottom line, Hermione," Ron said, kicking himself mentally for giving up the chance to snog his girlfriend in lieu of rehashing his earlier argument, "You're going back to Hogwarts. I'm not letting you throw your dream away."

"_Bottom line_, Ronald," Hermione replied, scowling…this time for real, "I'm not going anywhere without you! You want me to go back? You have to come back with me!"

"Why are you being so bloody difficult about this?" he yelled, letting go of her and dragging his fingers roughly through his hair in frustration, "Head Girl…it's what you've always wanted!"

"_You're_ what I've always wanted!" she shouted, equally frustrated, "Alright…maybe not _always_…at least not the way I do now…as a friend, certainly, since that very first train ride…so you see, you _have_ always been wanted…just in varying degrees…"

She was rambling, and it made Ron smirk; he thought she was very cute when she rambled.

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, blushing embarrassedly when she noticed his smirk, "You wanted me, too…maybe not as long…"

"No, you're right," he nodded, "I couldn't stand you at first. You just came busting into our compartment and started rambling at me and Harry, barely even taking time to breathe…"

"I was nervous…" she interjected, continuing to blush, "I wanted people to like me!"

"Then you shouldn't have looked down your nose at me…it made me want to be as far away from you as possible," Ron confessed.

"I didn't mean to," Hermione replied, "I just thought if I was the best, people would _finally_ like me…it didn't work at my Muggle school…I don't know why I thought it would work at Hogwarts."

"You were so bloody intimidating," Ron said, explaining the way he felt around her during First Year for the first time, "Still are, come to that."

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed, slapping his arm.

"You know it's true, luv," Ron laughed, "I don't know whether to run away or grab you and snog you senseless when you put your hands on your hips and get all _Hermione-ish_…"

"That's not funny," she put her hands on her hips and looked very un-amused and very Hermione-ish at Ron's words. He laughed as she proved his point for him; this just made her scowl at him all the more.

"Once we were friends, though," Ron went on, picking up where they left off, "I may not have understood my feelings for you…or even knew what they were…but I knew it was my job to look out for you; you were mine to protect."

"Just like with Harry…" Hermione said, marveling at the way he was always so concerned with the well-being of others before his own.

"Not exactly," he said, shaking his head, "I mean…yeah, I'd have taken a curse for either one of you, even in First Year…but have you ever seen me try to curse someone for calling Harry a name?"

Hermione smiled as she remembered the slug-vomiting incident from their Second Year.

"It was very gallant of you, even if it did backfire," she said, smiling prettily at him, "I don't think I ever thanked you. And I also never told you this, but my crush on Lockhart started to fade that day, because I started to crush on you. In fact, had you not been vomiting slugs at the time, I probably would have kissed you for standing up for me."

"No offense, but if you had done that, I probably would've thrown up anyway," he said, looking completely serious.

"Thanks a lot, Ron!" she cried, insulted.

"Because of _nerves_, Hermione!" Ron clarified, "I was twelve…and like I said, I didn't understand the things I was feeling towards you; that didn't happen until Third Year."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing.

"Well, I already knew I liked you differently than I did Harry, but I didn't know why until I watched you slap Malfoy," Ron said, thinking back to that day four years ago.

"I don't understand…" Hermione looked confused.

"That night, I couldn't get images of you out of my head," he said, starting to blush, "I had to wank three times that night just to get to sleep. The same happened every night after, too."

"Ron…! That's disgusting!" Hermione exclaimed, gaping at him, unable to believe he would say such a thing to her.

"Sorry, luv," Ron said, shrugging, "I was thirteen and you had just rocketed me bang into puberty; would you have preferred it if I was wanking to thoughts of Madame Rosmerta?"

"My God, Ron!" Hermione pulled a disgusted face, "You _do_ realize that she's been running _The Three Broomsticks_ at _least_ since Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Harry's parents were in school! She's ancient!"

"She never _looked_ ancient…" he replied.

"Glamour spells and beauty potions, no doubt!" she countered, snappishly. She was no fan of witches who went out of their way to over-emphasize their physical attributes…or the wizards who fell for those attributes. "Of course, you never saw past her breasts to see how old she could be!"

"That's not the point!" Ron exclaimed, not liking her accusation.

"Then what _is_ the point?!" Hermione huffed, knowing she was right on the money with Ron and his ogling eyes.

"I don't remember…" he confessed, shrugging.

"No doubt you're too busy thinking of Rosmerta and her --…" she was too worked up to get off her high horse concerning the bar matron and Ron's past infatuation.

"Hermione! The _point_ is that the _only_ girl –…"

"Madame Rosmerta is _hardly_ a girl, Ronald…"

"The only _female_," he growled, continuing, "That I think about when I wank is _you_, and it's been that way since I was thirteen." He meant that as a compliment, but he could see by the look on her face that she didn't take it that way.

"What about Fleur…?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he asked, exasperated, "Fleur is a part Veela, Hermione; she would affect me when she was around, but once I couldn't _see_ her, I'd completely forget about her. And she hasn't affected me since she married Bill…"

"What about Lav-Lav…?"

"Ugh!" Ron was gritting his teeth in frustration, as every time he said something, Hermione threw something new into his face, "I didn't think about her even when I was _with_ her! I never would have even given her the time of day if I didn't feel so unworthy of you back then."

"I don't see how snogging Lavender Brown in the common room and everywhere else you had the chance would make you worthy of me. You were never _un_worthy, whatever _that_ is supposed to mean." Hermione was using that shrill, self-righteous voice she'd often used on him when they were having really bad arguments…the rows that ended with them not talking for long periods of time.

Ron hated it when she used that voice on her; it often made him feel stupid. "It's just…you and Harry were special, and I was always just the nobody who followed you two around; even Slughorn could see that! I wasn't even relevant enough for him to remember my bloody name! The closest he ever came was _'Roland'_…at least that has the same letters as 'Ronald'."

"Ron," Hermione sighed in exasperation, "Professor Slughorn and that stupid Slug Club don't matter…they never did!"

"It wasn't just that," Ron admitted dejectedly, "You'd been with Krum; if you could be with someone like _him_, what hope did _I_ ever have with you? Up until Lavender, nobody had shown any interest in me…the stupid, lazy, can't-play-Quidditch-for-shite sidekick."

Hermione threw up her hands in frustration. "Number One: stop swearing. Number Two: I was never _with_ Viktor; it was one date…the first of only _two_ dates I've ever been on in my entire life! And Number Three: _I_ was interested in you, you idiot…why didn't you notice?!"

"I must have missed the interest you showed me when you were busy telling Harry how tall and interesting and fanciable he had become," Ron said bitterly, "I must have mistook the interest for you _ignoring_ me when I reminded you that _I_ was tall – taller than Harry – and that I also have visible scars left over from Fifth Year. You always showed Harry more interest and attention than you ever did me, so how was I supposed to know it was _me_ you liked?"

"I asked you to the Slug Club Christmas party, didn't I?" she reminded him, "I didn't ask Harry!"

"Harry was already invited," he shrugged, "Besides, you could have asked me as just a friend or out of pity."

"Pity?!" she shouted, her eyebrows knitting together angrily, "You're an idiot!! Nothing I've ever done for you had been out of pity…how can you _think _that?"

"I'm just trying to explain what was going through my head during Sixth Year," he said, defending himself, "And before I forget…it wasn't just _one date_ with Krum; you also kissed him and kept it from me. All that time and all those letters and you kept saying he was just a friend, when really you'd snogged him!"

"He _is_ just a friend!" Hermione cried, unable to believe after all this time he was _still_ jealous of Viktor Krum.

"You _snogged_ him!!" Ron yelled, accusingly, his temper starting to get the better of him, "Do you snog _all_ your friends?! What about Harry?!"

"Oh, yes, you caught me, Ronald!" she yelled, her voice carrying a hurtful tone, "After you ran off and abandoned us during the Hunt, Harry and I spent all our time snogging! No one kisses quite like the Boy-Who-Lived!!"

Ron turned away from her, unable to meet her eyes. She was giving voice to his fears and insecurities, and even though he knew what she said wasn't true, it still cut him deep.

"How dare you accuse me of that, Ronald?" she sounded hurt, but still angry, "Do you really think I'm such a slag?"

"No, of course not…" he said, looking down at his feet.

"Then why…?" the anger started to recede, and the hurt took over her voice.

"Why didn't you tell me about the kiss?" Ron asked, finally managing to look her in the eye.

"It was one kiss, Ron, and the reason I didn't say anything was because I was embarrassed! It wasn't something I was ready for and I didn't enjoy it. Viktor wasn't supposed to be my first kiss; it's something I'm going to regret for the rest of my life and _that_ is why I didn't tell you. I didn't want you teasing me." It was Hermione's turn to look away, feeling embarrassed.

"I wouldn't have…" Ron insisted, though his blush seemed to contradict him.

"Ha!" Hermione scoffed, "Look out how you teased Harry for his 'wet' kiss with Cho!"

"That's different," Ron said, "That's _Harry_! If you had told me that…that _darling Vicky_ was rubbish at kissing, I wouldn't have teased you."

"You're teasing me _now_!" Hermione reminded him, "And I never said Viktor was rubbish at kissing; for all I know, he might be very good. What I said was I didn't _enjoy_ it!"

"Yeah, cuz he's rubbish!"

"No…because he wasn't YOU!!" she shouted, trying to fight back the tears of frustration and anger that were threatening to make an appearance, "Ever since I was thirteen, I dreamt that you would be my first kiss, and Viktor _stole_ that dream from me when he kissed me after the Yule Ball. And, do you know what? I was so angry with you for the hurtful things you said to me that night that I didn't even think to get angry with Viktor for kissing me without consent!"

"I hate him…" Ron said softly, looking away and balling up his fists.

"I know, Ron…" Hermione sighed.

"He didn't deserve to be your first," he said. His voice was quiet and sad.

"He was only my first date, my first dance, and my first kiss…there are still plenty of other firsts left," she reached out and stroked his arm, trying to be soothing.

"I reckon…" he shrugged.

"My first _real_ snog: that was you. My first boyfriend: you. My first time sharing a bed with a man: you. And there are some very important firsts that I plan on doing with you…and only you. So, Viktor was my first date; our time together, Ron, our _relationship_ is more important. So, he danced with me first; the dances _we_ shared at Bill and Fleur's wedding will always be more special to me. And, yes, he gave me my first kiss; but _your_ kisses, Ronald Weasley, are the ones that satisfy and excite me," she blushed as she admitted this to Ron, but she could tell that he needed to hear it.

"Bloody Hell…" he smiled, his ears turning pink. He took her in his arms and kissed her again, once more bringing their conversation to a halt.

It was several minutes before Hermione pulled away and asked the question that was preying on her mind. "Why do we do this, Ron? Why do we fight like this?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head, "But I hate it."

Hermione sighed and rested her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat. "This business of going back or not going back to Hogwarts…it isn't worth tearing each other apart. I'll go back…whether you go or not. It's just…we spent six years at Hogwarts dancing around our feelings and worrying about the next threat to come after Harry. This is our last chance to go and just be students…no war, no Voldemort, no hidden Death Eaters.

"We were forced to grow up so fast…too fast. We never really had a chance to be children. We can go back and have one carefree year…one last year as children before we head out into the adult world and get jobs and go about living adult lives.

"And we would be Head Girl and Boy, Ron…think about it…you and I would be the students everyone looked up to. And as an added bonus, we'd have our very own common room and _private_ dorms. Imagine what you and your girlfriend could do with that kind of privacy…"

Ron was shocked by what she had just implied. "Hermione, you don't mean…"

"All I'm saying, Ron, is there are a lot of firsts we can still share…and at Hogwarts there would be no parental supervision for _ten months_…" She looked up into his blue eyes, hoping he would finally see things her way.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron gasped, finally catching on.

"Bloody Hell, indeed…" she smiled, allowing the mild swear to go by for once.

"I'm in…let's go to Hogwarts!" Ron smiled.

"I knew you'd see the light," Hermione said with a satisfied smile. She wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and proceeded to give him a preview of the sort of snogging they'd be able to do when they were all alone in their Hogwarts dormitories.


	3. August Rush

**A/N:** This chapter may seem a bit rushed, the way it sort of fast-forwards through the remainder of the month of August. Well, it's supposed to...hence the chapter title. Rushed or not, though I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter (whenever I get it done) will featue the return to Hogwarts.

**DISCLAIMER:** It all belongs to JK Rowling.

_**

* * *

**__**The Seventh Year Itch  
**_**Chapter 3  
****"August Rush"**

Once Ron gave in and the decision was made to return to Hogwarts, news spread quickly throughout the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley seemed fit to burst every button on her housecoat with pride.

"Another Head Boy! Oh, my darling Ronnie…I always knew you had it in you…from the moment you made prefect!" Molly wrapped him in a tight bear-hug and stood on her tiptoes and stretched to give him a kiss on the cheek. Ron quickly pawed at his cheek, as if to wipe away the kiss.

"Mum, c'mon…geroff…you're embarrassing me!"

"Oh, let your mother dote on you, Ronald," Hermione said, grinning cheekily, "She's proud of you; you're the last Head Boy in the family."

"At least until the two of you start having babies," Molly said with a wistful smile as she pulled Hermione into a hug and kissed her cheek as well, "There's no doubt that your babies will be brilliant and destined to be Head Boys and Head Girls."

"Babies…?" Hermione squeaked, eyes going wide. She cast a nervous glance at Ron and noticed him visibly stiffen and turn pale. Obviously, they were of the same mind; they'd only been a couple for three months…talking about having babies was extremely premature. They hadn't even had sex yet.

"Molly, dear, you're scaring the children," Arthur Weasley said with a knowing smile as he looked up from his copy of _The Daily Prophet_, "Ron and Hermione have only just started dating; we should table this talk of babies for a few years yet, I think."

"Nonsense, Arthur," Molly huffed as she let go of Hermione and took up her position at the kitchen counter where she was chopping vegetables for the soup she was preparing for lunch, "It's never too soon to talk about babies, and Ron and Hermione have been together for years…they've just finally admitted it to themselves."

Hermione and Ron exchanged an embarrassed look. There was some truth to Mrs. Weasley's words; her relationship with Ron over the past seven years was anything but normal and often skirted the line between friendship and romance.

Now, however, they were finally together as a couple and on the right track. Someday in the future…maybe in a year or two…she could see herself getting married to Ron…and a few years after that starting a family with him…though nothing close to the size of the Weasley brood.

For now, though, she just wanted to take things one day at a time and enjoy being in love. Of course, it would be much more enjoyable if they could avoid arguments like the one they'd had this morning.

"Hermione, dear, are you listening?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I was lost in thought…"

"No doubt daydreaming about all those brilliant grandbabies you're going to give me one day," Molly said, reaching out and stroking Hermione's cheek.

"Mum, give it a rest," Ron said, casting a worried glance at Hermione, "She asked if you owled your parents yet, Hermione."

"Oh…not yet," Hermione replied, blushing, "I thought I'd pop home in a bit and tell them in person."

"Well, be sure to let them know we'll be having a party in your and Ron's honor tonight and they are, of course, invited," Molly said, dumping the vegetables she was chopping into a cauldron on the cook-top.

"And perhaps tonight your father can explain to me the inner workings of a denter's drill," Mr. Weasley said, smiling brightly at the thought of learning more about Muggle technology.

"Mum, you don't need to go to all that trouble for us," Ron said, "We only _just_ had Harry's birthday party; you're doing too much."

"Ron's right, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione added, "You needn't go to so much fuss for the two of us…"

"Nonsense!" Molly huffed, "Now, you listen here: the two of you have accomplished something to be proud of, and we are going to _celebrate_ that accomplishment! Besides, with what we've all been through, we deserve to celebrate whenever we can. So, if I want to throw a party for you becoming Head Boy and Head Girl, or if I want to throw a party because it's _Tuesday_, then I'm going to; understand?"

"Yes, Mum…" Ron sighed guiltily, looking down at his shoes.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley…" Hermione nodded, also looking down as she, too, felt guilty.

"Good," Mr. Weasley said, putting down his newspaper and getting to his feet, "Now that's settled, I think I'll go Floo the boys and enlist their aid in setting up for the party."

"You do that, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said, waving her husband off toward the lounge and the fireplace therein, "After lunch I need to pop up to Diagon Alley for a few things for the party."

Ron sighed, not wanting his mother to go to so much trouble. He knew she wouldn't listen; she was a Prewett after all, and Prewetts were a stubborn lot. When he felt Hermione's hand slip into his own, he looked up to find her smiling at him. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Do you want to come with me when I go to tell my parents the good news?" There was a hopefulness in Hermione's eyes that Ron could not see fit to disappoint.

"Of course," Ron replied, squeezing her hand, "I'm dying to see how _your_ parents react to the news. Five sickles says we don't get the stuffing squeezed out of us like we did here!"

"I'll take that bet!" Hermione laughed, leaning up to kiss him chastely on the lips.

The Grangers reacted much the same way Ron's parents had reacted, with pride and excitement and a pair of bone-crushing hugs administered by Hermione's mother…which cost Ron five sickles that Hermione happily took from him. To make the loss of the bet and his hard-earned money sting just a little less, Hermione gave him a consolatory kiss and promised that the first round of butterbeer on their first Hogsmeade weekend would be on her.

The party that was held in Ron and Hermione's honor was a raucous affair and a grand time was had by all the Weasleys and the Grangers, as well. Even Harry, despite his predilection for brooding, cracked a smile and had fun…no doubt thanks to Ginny doing everything short of shagging him in the middle of the party in order to make him happy.

The arrival of the Hogwarts letters and the resultant excitement seemed to make the remaining days of the summer holiday rocket past in fast-forward. Hermione insisted on going to Diagon Alley as soon as possible to pick up their school supplies and books so she could get a head-start on reading the new course texts from cover-to-cover so she'd have her usual edge in class.

"It's more important now than ever before for me to know what to expect," she had told Ron when he complained about her wanting to spend the rest of the summer with her nose buried in a book, "We'll be taking NEWTs this year, and I want to do well!" Ron just shook his head and rolled his eyes; he knew, regardless of how much studying she did, Hermione would ace the NEWTs just as she had the OWLs.

A week after the Hogwarts letters arrived, another school owl arrived with a letter for Ron. Inside the envelope was the Quidditch captain's badge that Harry had turned down and returned to Professor McGonagall the day after he received it. The letter accompanying the badge explained that, as the next senior member of the team after Harry, Ron was now the Gryffindor team's captain. A post-script on the letter instructed Ron to pass the badge along to Ginny if he, too, decided to reject the captaincy. Ginny was the next senior member behind Ron, and it would save time and spare another owl from making the nine-hundred-mile roundtrip between Hogwarts and the Burrow, if Ron would just pass the badge along if he didn't want it.

The minute he received the letter, Ron Apparated to the Granger house in London to tell Hermione the news. He found her on the couch in her parents' lounge with her nose buried in her Arithmancy text.

"Can you believe McGonagall made me the Gryffindor Quidditch captain?" Ron asked, shaking his head as he flopped heavily onto the couch next to Hermione.

"Of course I can, Ron," Hermione replied, looking up from her Advanced Arithmancy text, "You're a much better Quidditch player than Harry ever was."

"What?! Are you mental?!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up off the couch and waving his arms around, "Harry is a natural! I'm just --…"

"Look at the facts," Hermione said, her voice calm as she quietly closed her book and sat it in her lap, "Harry was _given_ a spot on the team by Professor McGonagall at a time when she was _desperate_. The team needed a Seeker and Harry…in that way he always has…broke a bunch of rules and came out smelling like a rose as the youngest Seeker in a hundred years. You, however, _earned_ your spot on the team at try-outs both years that you played."

"Yeah, but…"

"It took Harry three years before his team won the Quidditch Cup, and even then it was only _after_ he'd been given the best broom on the market," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron's attempts to interject, "You, however, managed to help win the Quidditch Cup your very first year on the team _without_ the team's primary Seeker or Beaters being allowed to play. And you did it on a broom that isn't nearly as coveted as the all-mighty Firebolt."

"Right, but…"

"In fact," she went on, "Both years that you won the Quidditch Cup, Harry didn't play in the Quidditch final. If anything, the team is _more_ successful…Cup-wise…without him on the team."

"You're mad," Ron replied, shaking his head, "You know that, right?"

Hermione got off the couch and moved to stand in front of Ron, taking his hands, "You also have something that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, youngest Seeker in a hundred years never had."

"And what's that?" he asked, looking down into her deep brown eyes.

"Your own theme song."

A broad smile played across Ron's lips as Hermione began humming "Weasley is Our King" before standing up on her tip-toes and kissing him softly on the lips.

"You're Head Boy and Quidditch Captain and you've got your very own Chocolate Frog card, Ron Weasley," she went on, reaching up and caressing his cheek, "Other people can see how wonderful you are…all you need to do is see it for yourself and you'll do fine."

"You forgot my other great accomplishment," Ron said, flashing Hermione a lopsided smile that made her weak in the knees.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I got you to be my girlfriend."

Hermione smiled broadly, "That may very well be your _greatest_ accomplishment yet!"

"Now, if I could just get you to take a broom-ride with me…" he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"I don't know if you mean that literally or figuratively, Ronald," she said, smacking his arm for the double entendre he threw her way, "But I assure you I'm not ready for _either_ of those activities."

"One of these days, Hermione Granger," Ron said, leaning down and kissing her, "I'm _going_ to get you on my broom."

Despite her blush, Hermione eagerly returned his kiss, forgetting about Arithmancy for the moment while they engaged in a snogging session in her parents' lounge.

Despite not having been McGonagall's first choice – he was used to coming in second to Harry Potter – Ron excitedly accepted the position, and once he was sure Harry wouldn't have any hard feelings about him taking the job, Ron began spending as much time as he could out in the paddock where the Weasley kids had played Quidditch all their lives. He conscripted Harry and Ginny to help him train – none of them had played competitively in over a year – and devise new strategies to lay waste to the other House teams and win the Quidditch cup for the third year running.

With Ron busy training whenever he wasn't working at the joke shop with George, and with Hermione getting a head-start on her studies and spending quality time with her parents before she once again left them for a year, there wasn't a lot of time for the young couple to be together. The time apart took its toll.

On a night in the middle of August, as Ron lay in his bed in the attic bedroom at the Burrow after a long day of working at the shop followed by a few hours of intense Quidditch practice, Ron found himself unable to sleep.

Truth-be-told, Ron had been having trouble sleeping ever since he and Hermione had come back from Australia. For the two months they were in the Land-Down-Under, Ron and Hermione had slept in the same bed. He had gotten used to the feeling of holding his girlfriend in his arms every night as he slept. Coming back home to the Burrow where, even if she wasn't living at her parents' home in London, Hermione would _not_ be allowed to sleep in his bed with him – even if all they did was sleep – was a hard transition to make.

Ron had been home for a little more than a month, and every night he tossed-and-turned, trying desperately to fall asleep. Every night he would give in to his body's exhaustion in the early hours before dawn, but it was a fitful, restless sleep plagued by nightmares of things he'd seen and done over the course of the war.

He wished he could see Hermione…touch her…hold her…smell her hair as it cascaded around her on the pillow in an amazing halo of soft brown curls. He wanted to hear her voice as she cooed comforting assurances and words of love in his ear. He had never once had a single nightmare while Hermione was in his arms; he missed that…he _needed_ it.

If only the Burrow had a _telephone_ – time spent with Hermione's parents had helped him curb his habit of mispronouncing the names of Muggle objects…at least the more commonly encountered ones – he could at least hear Hermione's voice. Hearing her would at least be _some_ comfort.

He could Floo-call her, but anyone could listen in, and Ron wanted to speak to her in private, without having to worry about either of their families eavesdropping. Besides, at this time of night, Hermione would be up in her room…she might not hear the fireplace down in her family's lounge, and he wasn't about to wake up the whole house, yelling for her.

It was much too late to Apparate over for a visit; dropping in unexpectedly at this time of night would be considered inappropriate rudeness of the highest order, and his mother would likely box his ears just for thinking about it.

As he lay there, alone in the dark room – Harry had moved into George's room when George moved back to the flat above the joke shop – with the silvery light of the full moon shining in his window, Ron had another idea, though he didn't know if it would help or not.

Concentrating on a happy memory – the day Hermione said "I love you" for the first time – Ron conjured his Patronus. The silver Jack Russell terrier immediately began to jump around excitedly on his bed, reminding Ron, more than slightly, of his hyperactive owl, Pigwidgeon.

Ron leaned down and the dog immediately sat up, ready to listen to its master's orders. Ron spoke briefly to the Patronus and then pointed out the window with his wand.

"Go tell 'Mione," Ron commanded, and the dog leapt off the bed and bounded straight out the open window and into the night.

Once the Patronus had departed on its mission, there was nothing left for Ron to do but wait and hope for a response.

"I wonder how long it takes a Patronus to travel a hundred-fifty miles…" Ron pondered as he lay back and stared at the ceiling.

One-hundred-fifty miles away in one of London's upscale neighborhoods, Hermione sat up in bed with _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade Seven)_ propped up on her lap and her large ginger cat sleeping comfortably across her legs. It was after midnight and although she was tired, Hermione was too engrossed in reading about the spells they would be learning once school started in two weeks.

She already knew a fair few of the spells, having learned them out of necessity for their time hunting Horcruxes; still, Hermione looked forward to being in the classroom again…both so she could learn more, and so she could show off what she already knew.

When a small, silver animal suddenly came bounding into her room straight through the glass of her closed bedroom window, Hermione was so startled that she jumped to her feet, still in bed, sending her textbook flying…and Crookshanks shooting off the bed with a disgruntled yowl to hide under her wardrobe.

She recognized the silver terrier as Ron's Patronus and was immediately filled with dread. Had the Burrow been attacked? Was Ron okay? Was he warning her about an imminent attack on _her_ house? Were her parents in danger? Was she?

Hermione realized that she was starting to lose her composure…as she often did in high-stress situations, much to her chagrin. Trying to remain calm, Hermione dropped to her knees and patted the bed in front of her, clicking her tongue as if calling a real dog to her.

Ron's Patronus leapt onto the bed and began happily gamboling around her, jumping up on her, rubbing against her, rolling over onto his back in front of her as if encouraging her to scratch his belly. Such close and direct contact with Ron's Patronus filled Hermione with a sense of joy and happiness; she felt safe and loved and her earlier panic was completely forgotten as she came to understand that nothing was wrong…there was no danger.

Hermione reached down and scratched the exposed belly of Ron's Patronus, a warm, tingling sensation entering her body where her fingers touched the silver dog and filling her with the most wonderful feeling she'd ever felt; it reminded her so much of how she felt whenever Ron held her.

"Do you have a message for me, boy?" she asked, talking to it as if the dog was flesh-and-blood. She had taught Ron how to use his Patronus to relay messages – the system for message delivery preferred by the Order of the Phoenix – during their hunt for the Horcruxes. To her knowledge, he hadn't used it since the end of the war, however.

In answer to Hermione's question, the dog wagged its tail excitedly, rolling over and sitting handsomely back on its haunches. The dog looked up at Hermione and Ron's voice began issuing from it.

_"I miss you so much, 'Mione,"_ Ron's voice made Hermione shiver unexpectedly, her body reacting to her boyfriend sounding as though her were in the same room with her, _"I wish I could hold you all night long, like I did in Australia…I miss the feeling of you in my arms. I love you, Hermione."_

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she heard the man she loved sounding so sad and lonely without her. She, too, wished he could hold her all night, but as long as they each lived under their parents' roof, they had to obey their parents' rules…rules that forbade unmarried couples from sharing the same bed.

Spending the night in Ron's arms was the most amazing feeling, almost identical to the way Ron's Patronus made her feel. That gave the clever witch an idea. Grabbing her wand off her bedside table, Hermione concentrated on a happy memory – their first night in Australia, sleeping in each other's arms for the first time – and summoned her own Patronus.

The playful silver otter sprang forth from her wand and began "swimming" through the air, circling Hermione's head over-and-over. When the two Patronuses spotted each other, they launched themselves at each other and began playing an affectionate, teasing game of tag that had Hermione laughing out-loud.

Hermione had never seen her and Ron's Patronuses behaving this way before, though considering her and Ron's affection for each other, she shouldn't have been surprised.

"If you can stop playing with your boyfriend for a minute," she laughed, addressing her otter, "I need you to take a message to Ron."

The silver otter unwrapped its lithe body from around Ron's silver terrier and swam through the air until it was eye-to-eye with Hermione, waiting expectantly. Hermione relayed her message and gave the otter its instructions; the Patronus took off through the window, leaving Hermione alone with the silver Jack Russell terrier and a disgruntled Crookshanks who was now curled up on the cushion of Hermione's desk-chair, glaring at the silver dog.

"I sent your girlfriend to keep Ron company," Hermione said to the remaining Patronus, "Do you want to keep _me_ company?"

The dog wagged its tail and hopped up into Hermione's lap. She wrapped her arms around the dog and felt it immediately: the love and security of being wrapped in Ron's arms. Hermione shut off her bedside lamp and lay down, cuddling the Patronus to her tighter, reveling in the wonderful feelings of Ron.

Back in his bedroom at the Burrow, Ron was once more tossing-and-turning. He wasn't sure how he knew, but Ron was fairly certain that his Patronus had reached Hermione and was giving her comfort even as he lay there, unable to sleep. He hadn't given his Patronus any instructions other than to go to Hermione and deliver the message, but if the silver dog was helping her in any way, he hoped it remained with her all night.

He thought about how much he loved Hermione, hoping the positive energy those thoughts generated would keep his Patronus around for as long as Hermione needed it. When Hermione's silver otter Patronus came swimming through his open window, Ron's feelings for his girlfriend multiplied a thousand-fold.

Ron sat up and the silver otter swam through the air right to him, circling him and rubbing against him, sending tingles of warmth and happiness flowing up and down his body.

_"I love you, too, Ron…so very much,"_ Hermione's voice resounded from the otter as it settled in Ron's lap, rubbing up against his stomach, _"I miss you, too, luv, and I wish we _could_ hold each other all night…but since we can't, my Patronus will keep you company until morning. I love you."_

Ron settled back down into bed and Hermione's otter scampered up onto his chest, nuzzling down into the light dusting of red chest-hair as if trying to get comfortable. The sensation was immediate: he felt just like he did when he held Hermione all those nights in Australia.

The physical sensation…the feel of her soft, supple body snuggling against him…was absent, but the emotional sensation…the warmth, the love, the security…was present in surplus amounts, and it was this that allowed Ron to get his first good night's sleep since they returned to England over a month ago.

For the remaining two weeks of the summer holiday, Ron and Hermione made a special effort to see each other every night. It often meant a little less studying and a little less Quidditch practice, but at the end of the day they were happier for it.

The nightly Patronus visits continued as well, and they quickly fell into the routine of sending a "good night" message to each other via the dog and the otter and then hunkered down to sleep with the other's Patronus secure in their arms.

Two days before they left for Hogwarts was the final Weasley family Sunday dinner that the whole family – including Harry, Hermione, and her parents – would be able to attend. It was also the last time Ron would see his older brothers before Christmas.

They had just finished dinner and Ron's brothers – bottles of butterbeer securely in hand – had taken him aside while their mother and Mrs. Granger brought out the pudding and tea. They said they wanted to wish him luck with his NEWTs and congratulate him once again on his accomplishments, but it quickly turned into something else.

"Being Head Boy is a very big responsibility, Ronald," Percy said, adjusting his glasses, and causing Ron to roll his eyes, "I'm very proud of you for following in my footsteps…I just hope you continue to follow my example when it comes time for your NEWTs."

"I was Head Boy before _you_ were, Perce," Bill reminded him, nudging his bespectacled brother with his elbow and knocking Percy's glasses askew, "Technically, he's following in _my_ footsteps!"

Ron opened his mouth about to say something, but Charlie cut him off.

"Bugger you both," Charlie said with a grin, "He's following in _my_ footsteps by being Quidditch captain!"

Ron tried to walk away since, obviously, they didn't need him for this conversation, but George grabbed him before Ron could get away.

"I had thought ickle Ronnikins was following _my_ footsteps by dropping out," George said, shaking his head in mock disappointment, "But now…going _back_ to school…and as Big Head Boy?! Such a disappointment!"

"Clearly," Hermione cut in, dragging Ron away from his brothers before they came to blows over which one Ron was taking after, "As Ron is both Head Boy _and_ Quidditch captain and the _only_ Weasley with his own action figure and Chocolate Frog card, he's blazing his _own_ path free of other people's footsteps. Now, if you'll excuse us, I'm going to go snog my boyfriend down by the pond."

The four Weasley brothers were gobsmacked as they watched Hermione lead their broadly-grinning little brother to the bottom of the garden where the pond awaited them.

"She's got a point, you know," George said, taking a pull off his bottle of butterbeer, "Ronnie's outdone the lot of you sorry sods."

"I don't believe it," Bill said, shaking his head, "I actually feel inadequate next to Ron."

"I need something stronger than butterbeer to wash _this_ down," Charlie said, pulling out his wand and preparing to Disapparate.

"I'll join you," Bill replied, pulling out his own wand.

"First round is on me," Percy added, his own wand already in his hand.

"No way I'm missing Perfect Percy getting pissed!" George laughed, tossing aside his butterbeer and pulling his wand from his back pocket, "Last one to _The Leaky Cauldron_ is a Malfoy!"

And with that, four loud _cracks_ echoed throughout the Burrow's garden as the oldest Weasley boys disappeared to go drown their sorrows while their baby brother was very thoroughly being snogged by his girlfriend down by the pond.


	4. Train Rides and Welcoming Feasts

_**The Seventh Year Itch  
**_**Chapter 4  
****Train Rides and Welcoming Feasts**

Tuesday, September First dawned rainy and dreary, and Ron did everything he could to remain asleep for another five minutes. It wasn't easy, as it appeared everyone wanted him to get up and get ready for his first official day as Head Boy.

_"Wake up, you wanker!!" _the alarm clock George had given him announced at seven o'clock in the morning, _"Get off your lazy arse and get to school!!"_

Without looking, Ron grabbed his wand off the bedside table and cast a Banishing Charm on the clock. It flew across the room and out his open window; landing somewhere in the Burrow's back garden, still screeching obnoxiously as it tried to wake him. Ron rolled over, wand still in hand, and drifted back to sleep.

"Ronald Weasley, you get up this minute," his mother called shrilly at seven-thirty, smacking him on the bum in an attempt to rouse him, "Breakfast is ready and if you don't come down straight away, you'll be going off to Hogwarts on an empty stomach!"

Ron mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, burying his head beneath his pillow to block out the sounds of his mother's voice. She huffed indignantly and left the room, muttering about how her _other_ Head Boy sons were much easier to awaken on the day they left for school.

"Get up, sleepy bones!" Ginny shouted, at quarter-'til-eight, yanking the pillow off his head and beating him with it repeatedly.

Ron was a bit more coherent this time around as he uttered something rude to his sister, scooted over as far against the wall as he could and buried his head protectively beneath his arms. When she continued to assault him with the pillow, he waved his wand at it and it exploded in a blast of snowy white feathers.

At eight o'clock, Harry was the next to try and wake Ron, and of the three who had tried, he was the one who came closest to succeeding. Casting a _Levicorpus_ spell on Ron as he had once in Sixth Year, Harry left the redhead hanging in mid-air by his ankle. Ron cursed loudly at his best mate, making several comments that not only implied that his parents had not been married when his mother birthed him, but that he also had an inappropriate relationship with his mother once she had.

Chuckling, Harry left the room, literally leaving Ron hanging. However, the redhead still had his wand with him – having learned during the war that keeping a solid grip on one's wand could be the difference between life and death – he cast the counter-curse, _Liberacorpus_, and crashed onto his bed with an _oompf!_

Free from Harry's spell, Ron curled back up on his bed and went back to sleep, covered in feathers and still gripping his wand.

It wasn't until eight-fifteen when a certain bushy-haired brunette strolled into his bedroom that Ron finally awoke and greeted the day. Hermione planted a gentle kiss on his cheek and said, in a hushed voice, "Good morning, Ronald," and Ron nearly leaped off the bed.

At eight-forty-five, Ron and Hermione both entered the kitchen, wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked. They each sported red, swollen lips, and Hermione had, for some odd reason, decided to wear her Gryffindor scarf securely around her neck despite the fact that it wasn't cold enough for such a fashion statement.

Harry and Ginny laughed and rolled their eyes at the couple and Mrs. Weasley pretended not to know what was going on as she bustled about the kitchen and served her youngest son a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, and beans.

With breakfast out of the way, in no time at all, or so it seemed, it was time to leave for King's Cross Station. As it was that now, even the youngest of the Weasleys was old enough to perform magic outside of school, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry all Apparated to the station.

When they arrived at Platform 9¾, the group was surprised to find George Weasley there handing out flyers for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' owl-order service to the students as they bustled about, boarding the train.

Mrs. Weasley bid her two youngest children a tearful goodbye for their final trip aboard the Hogwarts Express, and then moved on to bid a similar farewell to Hermione (who had bid her own tearful farewell to her own parents before leaving for the Burrow that morning), and then to Harry who would be going off to the Ministry with Arthur once the train left to arrange the first leg of his world tour with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Mr. Weasley then moved in to say good-bye to Ron, Ginny, and Hermione a bit more calmly than his wife had. With a fatherly hug for each of the three, he implored them to finally…for once in their lives…stay out of trouble at school.

George, too, bid his siblings and Hermione goodbye, as did Harry. Harry's farewell was much more tearful and sentimental than George's was ("Be sure and send me a toilet seat, and kick Mrs. Norris for me!"), since he was not only saying goodbye to his girlfriend, but to the two people who had been by his side no matter what for the last seven years.

"Promise me you'll take care of each other," Harry said to Ron and Hermione as he hugged them both, "And look after Ginny for me."

Hermione was too choked up to do more than nod and hug the boy she thought of as a brother for all she was worth. Ron managed to keep a stiff upper lip and not break down into tears, laughing as he clapped his best friend on the shoulder.

"I'll take care of our girls, mate; you just make sure you don't let all that fame go to your scarred head while you're out there receiving the love and adulation of millions of wizards and witches around the world."

"I'll do my best," Harry joked, and the two boys shared a quick manly hug with lots of back-slapping (as if to say "I'm hugging you, but it's okay, because I'm hitting you, too!").

Soon enough it was eleven o'clock and the Hogwarts Express was under way. Ginny had gone off to sit with Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas, who was returning for his Seventh Year after spending the previous year on the run. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had to head to the front of the train where the prefects' carriages awaited.

To set the proper example as Head Boy and Head Girl (and because Hermione had absolutely insisted that they change as soon as they reached the train station), Ron and Hermione were already dressed in their school robes. Ron kept tugging at the collar of his.

"Will you stop fidgeting, Ron?" Hermione snapped, slapping his hands away from his robes.

"I can't help it, 'Mione…these new robes are just a bit uncomfortable," Ron complained. His mother had bought him brand-new school robes for the first time in his life. He argued with her, telling her it was ridiculous that she should waste money on new robes when there was no one left to pass them down to, but his mother had insisted; she said it was a reward for him becoming Head Boy and if she wanted to buy her son robes for becoming Head Boy then she bloody well would. He knew better than to continue arguing after that.

"Uncomfortable or not, Ron, I think you look dashing," Hermione said with a smile that reminded him of the way she acted when he first wore his Head Boy badge for her.

"Dashing, eh?" he said, returning her smile with a wink of his own.

Hermione ran her hands over Ron's shoulders, smoothing out the material where he'd bunched it up while tugging on it. She then slid her hands down his chest, teasingly fingering his Head Boy badge, "Oh yes, Ronald…very dashing."

Ron leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Are you ready for this?" Ron asked nervously as he and Hermione stood outside the prefects' compartment.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Hermione replied, taking a deep breath and smiling, just as nervous as Ron.

With that, the newly crowned Head Boy and Head Girl entered the prefects' carriage ready to give instructions to the eight fifth-year students who were Hogwarts' newest band of prefects.

"As prefects, you are responsible for the younger students in your House," Hermione explained to the eight prefects sitting in front of her, "Fifth-year prefects become responsible for the new students entering their House this year."

The new prefects traded looks while Head Girl Hermione continued on.

"Until you graduate, these students that are sorted into your House this year will be your responsibility; just as the sixth-year prefects are responsible for students who were first-years _last_ year…"

"Second-years," Ron said, trying to be helpful.

"Yes, Ron," Hermione said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes, "Sixth-year prefects are responsible for their House's second-years; and seventh-year prefects --…"

"Third-years," Ron said, cutting across her and drawing some quiet sniggers from the assembled prefects.

"Might I be allowed to finish, Ronald?" Hermione asked, glaring at him.

"Sure thing, 'Mione," he said, smiling at her. There was more giggling from the assembled prefects.

"As I was _saying_," she said while narrowing her eyes at Ron, "Each of you is responsible for a specific year of younger students in your House. So, in case of emergency --…"

"Like a war…"

"Thank you, Ron…"

"Or an Azkaban escapee on the loose…"

"Ron…"

"Or a deranged teacher setting a troll loose in the dungeon…"

"RON!!!"

"What? 'Mione, I'm just trying to help."

"You're _not_ helping, Ronald, you're interrupting me, and that is not helpful in the least!" Hermione was extremely frazzled and her hair seemed alive with electricity

"Sorry, luv," Ron said, flashing her a lopsided grin, "Carry on."

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione continued with giving instructions to the new prefects, informing them of their duties and their privileges and their responsibilities to the school and the students in their charge.

Once she was finished, she passed out patrol schedules, dates for Hogsmeade visits, and the new passwords for the students' various Houses. She then left, with Ron in tow, to pass out similar information to the sixth- and seventh-year prefects in the other compartments.

When their Head duties for the trip were done (following a quick patrol of the train), Ron and Hermione made their way towards the back of the train where Ginny had promised to save them a pair of seats…of course, Crookshanks was curled up in the seat closest to the window meaning Ron and Hermione would have to sit closer to each other on the bench; neither of them seemed to mind.

"Any sign of the food trolley?" Ron asked as he sat down and put an arm around Hermione, prompting her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, you great bottomless pit, you haven't missed it," Ginny teased from her window-seat next to Luna.

"You've been made Head Boy," Luna said matter-of-factly as she looked up from her copy of _The Quibbler_, pulling down her Spectre-Specs to get a good look at him.

"Err…yeah," Ron nodded, "And Quidditch captain, as well."

"Good one!" Dean exclaimed, smiling, "Any idea who's going to be on the team?"

"Well, I know who the Keeper is," Ron laughed, "But other than that…"

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Ginny said, arching an eyebrow at her brother, "I do believe _someone_ in this compartment put in a lot of time helping you out this past month…I believe she _deserves_ a spot on the team, don't you?"

"You're absolutely right, Gin," Ron said nodding; he then turned to Hermione and asked, "Whaddya say, 'Mione, want to play Chaser for Gryffindor?"

Ron, Dean, and Hermione broke out laughing and Ginny, too, snorted at her brother's joke, but not before smacking him on the head with her _own_ copy of _The Quibbler_ (generously provided by Luna for all of her friends) and calling him a prat.

The conversation drifted from Quidditch to classes to NEWTs to students who may or may not be returning to Hogwarts for the school-year. Hours passed and the sound of the food trolley coming down the corridor roused Ron to the point of jumping to his feet and waiting at the door for the trolley to reach them.

"Anything from the trol—oh!"

"Yeah, I'll take a dozen Chocolate Frogs, a box of Bertie Bott's, a pack of Droobles, some --…"

"Ron, don't be such a pig!" Ginny yelled coming up behind him and elbowing him in the ribs, "We all want something, too!"

"Right…well…wait your turn," Ron said, pushing his sister behind him, "I also want a couple pumpkin pasties."

"Will that be all, deary?" the trolley lady asked, sounding amused at the redhead's appetite.

"Yeah…thanks," Ron said, paying her and then carrying his armload of sweets back to his spot next to Hermione and plopping down heavily. Ginny huffed as he passed her while Dean couldn't help chuckling at the siblings' antics. Hermione simply rolled her eyes, used to their sibling squabbles, and Luna seemed blissfully oblivious to anything out of the ordinary.

"Here you go, luv," Ron said, handing Hermione the pumpkin pasties and half his Chocolate Frogs. He'd already ripped into one of his and had bitten the legs off the confection before it could leap away.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said, smiling at him, "But, honestly, do you really think I'm going to eat all these Chocolate Frogs? What would my parents say?"

"Maybe you're right," Ron replied, snatching back three of the Frogs he'd given her, "There…better?"

She heaved a great sigh of exasperation, though her smile told Ron she was only playing. He stuffed the rest of his Chocolate Frog in his mouth and smiled at her cheekily, causing her to roll her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, leaving a chocolaty smudge where his lips had touched, and began laughing when she pulled a disgusted face and wiped it off.

Ginny cleared her throat from across the small compartment, prompting Ron and Hermione to turn their attention to the other three people with them. Dean and Ginny were both smirking at them while Luna looked on them as if observing some previously-undiscovered magical creature…a Cobbleslurf, perhaps.

"So it's official, then?" Dean asked, smiling, "I mean…I heard rumors. There was an article in the _Prophet_ that said the two of you went sneaking off to Australia to elope…but I didn't pay it much credence."

"I heard they were actually searching for an ancient race of aquatic puffskeins that are only native to the warm waters of the Southern Hemisphere," Luna added airily, "I'm sure father will be interested in publishing an article about your expedition…did you find any?"

"We weren't off on some aquatic safari," Hermione laughed, "And we certainly didn't elope."

"Though I did get to see Hermione in a Muggle bikini," Ron said with a grin, waggling his eyebrows and drawing a laugh from Dean. Hermione, however, punched him in the shoulder.

"And since that was _supposed_ to be a _secret_, Ronald, you never will…_ever_…again," Hermione said in her best haughty tone of voice.

"Aw, c'mon, 'Mione…" Ron whined, "I was only having a bit of fun. We're all friends here…"

Hermione looked away and huffed, her nose firmly in the air. She was facing away from Ron, but she had a definite smile on her lips which would have told him, had he been able to see, that she really wasn't mad at him.

"Are you cold?"

The sudden question from Luna drew everyone's attention and caused Ron and Hermione's playful little squabble to come to a quick and decisive halt. All eyes turned first to Luna, and then to Hermione, whom Luna had addressed, and the Gryffindor scarf she wore wrapped securely around her neck. Hermione's cheeks immediately turned pink as did the tips of Ron's ears.

"Y'know, Luna, I've been wondering that ever since she and Ron came down for breakfast this morning," Ginny said in a tone that was designed to tease Hermione, "If I didn't know better I'd say she was hiding something."

_"Accio Hermione's scarf!"_

"Ginny, no!!" Hermione yelled; but it was too late.

The scarlet and gold scarf unwrapped itself from around Hermione's neck and zoomed across the small space to land in Ginny's outstretched hand. Hermione sat, looking mortified and embarrassed as two large, red hickies were revealed on either side of her neck.

"Blimey," Dean said, whistling at the site of the love-bites.

"Were you attacked by a vampire?" Luna asked sincerely, cocking her head to the side to get a better look at the marks.

"No, just a pervy git," Ginny laughed, tossing Hermione's scarf back to her.

"See. What. You. Did!" Hermione yelled at Ron, punctuating each word with a smack on the arm, "I'll forever be known as the Head Girl with the hickies, Ronald…thank you very much!"

"Oi, you don't see me complaining about the ones you left on my --…"

"RON!!!" Hermione screamed, trying to cut him off.

"…Chest."

"Eww!" Ginny said, pulling a disgusting face, "Hermione…that's my brother. I mean…do you know where he's _been_?"

"OI! I'm right _here_ y'know!" Ron bellowed angrily at his sister.

"Oh, shut up, Ronald!" Hermione snapped, fighting back tears, "I'm disgraced thanks to you. I'll be a laughing stock once we reach the school!"

"'Mione…" Ron's voice softened and he tried to place a comforting hand on her arm, but she pulled away.

"Hey, it's okay, Hermione," Ginny said softly, realizing she'd just inadvertently caused a row between her best friend and her brother, "Look, I know a cosmetic spell…it'll cover those right up."

The redhead moved forward, and waved her wand at the two red splotches on Hermione's neck, casting a non-verbal spell. The hickies immediately disappeared, and Ginny cast an apologetic look at her brother – who nodded in acceptance – and then turned her attention back to Hermione.

"There…good as new," Ginny said, smiling.

Hermione examined her reflection in the window turning from left to right until she was satisfied that the hickies were, if not healed, then at least fully concealed.

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione sniffed, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. Ron suddenly conjured a handkerchief with his wand and handed it to her. She looked at him for a moment before accepting the handkerchief and nodding a combined _'thank you'_ and _'you're forgiven'_ to her boyfriend, "Where did you learn that spell?"

"It sometimes pays to be girly," Ginny said, lightly teasing Hermione, "I learned it from an article in _Witch Weekly _a couple of years ago. I got a lot of practice casting it during Fifth Year."

Dean suddenly coughed and looked away, as if examining the compartment door. Ginny blushed, realizing she had just incriminated him in front of her overprotective brother. Hermione, realizing what was going on, quickly changed the subject, hoping Ron wouldn't catch on.

"So who's up for organizing a NEWTs study group when we get to school?" Hermione asked, "The tests are only ten months away, after all."

Ron groaned and rolled his eyes, while Ginny silently mouthed "thank you" to Hermione and Dean seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hermione, the tests are _ten months away_!" Ron exclaimed in exasperation, "You have to promise me you aren't going to pull a nutter with the NEWTs the way you did with the OWLs."

"Ron, the NEWTs are the single most important tests you will ever take in your life," Hermione said, knowing even as she said it that she was wasting her breath, "How do you expect to go far in life without NEWTs?"

Ron took her hands and looked her square in the eye, getting serious. "'Mione, I've already got a spot waiting for me in the Aurors, and as long as I've got you, there's nothing else I _need_. I promise I will study for the NEWTs, but not until they're _much_ closer…and I need you to promise me the same."

"But, Ron…"

"No buts, luv," he said, shaking his head, "No studying for NEWTs until after Christmas."

"Ron…!"

"Promise me," Ron said sternly.

"I promise," Hermione sighed with a huff.

"Hermione, are you feeling okay?" Ginny asked, watching the interaction between Hermione and Ron with wide-eyed fascination, "I mean, do you realize you just promised Ron that you're not going to study for the 'most important tests you'll ever take' until they're only five months away?"

"Gin, give a rest," Ron said, scowling at her.

"No, Ginny, Ron's right," Hermione said.

"Excuse me?!" Ginny exclaimed, looking stunned. Dean, too, looked floored by Hermione's statement. Luna, however, must have gotten bored with the living soap opera playing out in front of her, because she had returned to reading _The Quibbler_.

"I get too wrapped up in studying," Hermione explained, "Schoolwork and exams become my sole focus and I wind up burning myself out."

"Just like Third Year," Ron said, quietly, putting an arm around her and gently playing with her soft brown hair.

Hermione looked at him and nodded, remembering how sick she had made herself, using a Time Turner to take as many extra classes as she could. She patted him on the knee and smiled. He had tried to take care of her, even back then, back when they were fighting over a cat and a rat.

"This is our last year as children," Hermione said to Ginny, telling the red-haired girl what she'd told Ron at the beginning of August, "Our last chance to enjoy ourselves before going off to our adult lives. I _want_ to enjoy it."

"And I'm going to make sure you do," Ron said, planting a kiss on her temple. Hermione reached up and patted him on the cheek, smiling brightly at him.

"If anyone can make me forget about studying and enjoy myself, it's you," she said.

Ginny made a retching noise, as if her brother and best friend were making her sick with their lovey-dovey ways. But she was only teasing, and she smiled at them, obviously glad that two people she cared for so much had finally found their way to each other.

"It's going to be an interesting year," Ginny said, turning to look out the window as Ron placed a tender kiss on Hermione's lips.

"As Headmistress of this school, it is my honor and my privilege to welcome back our returning students and to welcome our brand-new students into the Hogwarts fold," Professor McGonagall said from her position, standing at the center of the Head Table.

"Much hard work and dedication has gone into restoring this castle and the school grounds to their former glory in time to re-open for the fall semester, and we do so with great pride and no small sense of gratitude to those who endeavored so diligently to make it so."

"This is your school, and, indeed, it shall be your home for the next ten months, but it is also now a hallowed and sacred place. The memorial wall you observed as you entered the castle is a testament to this. Utilize the school to its fullest extent and to the best of your abilities…be attentive to your studies, be diligent in your schoolwork, and yes, even enjoy yourselves when the situation allows…but be mindful and respectful of those men, women, and children who offered up their lives defending this school…defending our very world…and the beliefs we hold dear from the forces of darkness."

"With that being said, I would be remiss in my duties as Headmistress if I did not announce certain staffing changes for the year, and introduce you to the new instructors who will be joining the Hogwarts faculty; with some luck, they may even be permanent additions to the staff."

"As has become something of an unfortunate tradition over the years – a tradition I hope we are finally able to break with now – Hogwarts is once again in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Professor Austen Ghoulsbee has been kind…and brave…enough to take the job. Professor Ghoulsbee will also be taking on my former duties as Head of Gryffindor House."

A thin, balding man with sunken cheeks and protruding eyes stood slowly and bowed at the announcement of his name. He had the appearance of someone who was not quite healthy, and seemed to fit his name quite well.

"Also, as my duties as Headmistress will no doubt keep my schedule full on a daily basis, I must turn over the teaching of Transfiguration to Professor Mendelson Malpot."

A pale-faced, pointy-chinned man with round glasses stood up and bowed. His blonde mop of hair fell down into his face as he did and he had to smooth it back with his hand, giving it something of a windswept look.

"We also find ourselves in need of a new Muggles Studies teacher. Luckily, Professor O.S. Quinn has agreed to fill that position, and as a Muggleborn, I'm sure she will bring a unique perspective to the class."

An attractive witch with short auburn hair and deep green robes stood and waved to the assemblage of students before quickly resuming her seat at the table.

"Finally, our longtime Flying instructor Madam Hooch has decided to take an extended holiday with her husband. Her duties teaching first-years how to fly a broomstick, as well as her responsibilities as our resident Quidditch referee will be taken over by Viktor Krum. Some of our older students will remember Mister Krum from his visit to Hogwarts during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. The rest of you will, no doubt, know of Mr. Krum from his career as a professional Quidditch player. He will be arriving sometime tomorrow."

A murmur of excitement traveled through the students at the mention of an international Quidditch star coming to work at Hogwarts. Over at the Gryffindor table, however, there was a certain Head Boy who was less than thrilled by the news.

"What the bloody Hell is that pumpkin-headed git doing coming here?" Ron grumbled, scowling.

"Language, Ron!" Hermione scolded in a whisper, "Besides, you heard what Professor McGonagall said…he's coming here for a job."

"Yeah, like he needs the work," Ron scoffed, "He's probably coming here to sweep you off your feet and steal you away from me."

"Oh, Ron, grow up!" Hermione chided, rolling her eyes.

Ginny sighed from her spot next to Hermione. It really _was_ going to be an interesting year.


	5. September to Remember

**A/N:** I'm not happy with the direction this story took with this chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to get myself on track to better chapters soon.

**Dislcaimer:** JKR's, not mine.

_**

* * *

**_

**_The Seventh Year Itch  
_Chapter 5  
September to Remember**

"Ron, you're being ridiculous! Viktor isn't coming here for me, he's coming here for a job!"

They'd been having the same argument since the announcement was made at last night's feast that Viktor Krum would be Hogwarts' substitute Flying instructor until Madam Hooch returned from her holiday.

"It seems a bit dodgy to me," Ron said as he scooped eggs onto his plate, "I mean, Krum shows up at Bill and Fleur's wedding last year, it gets raided by Death Eaters, and then he just disappears. Where's he been and what's he been doing all this time?"

"Please, Ronald," Hermione groaned in exasperation, "Please tell me you're not blaming Viktor for the Death Eaters attacking the wedding!"

"Well, I wasn't," he replied, looking pensive, "But now that you mention it…"

"Stop! Just…stop, Ron," she sighed, "I don't _love_ Viktor!"

"I know that," he said, nodding as he shoveled a heaping forkful of eggs into his mouth, "You like him as a friend…we covered that over the summer. That isn't what this is about."

"Then what _is it_ about?" she asked in complete and total aggravation.

"It's about what _his_ intentions are," Ron explained.

"His intentions?" Hermione echoed, looking at Ron curiously, "What intentions?"

"His intentions towards _you_," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Ron…"

"No, hear me out…"

"I will not hear you out, Ronald, because you are being completely ridiculous about this. Now drop it!"

"Hermione…!"

Before Ron could speak his piece, however, the doors to the Great Hall opened up and a hush fell over the crowd of students as Viktor Krum came walking in. His thick black hair was windswept and he had his broom – a Firebolt – slung over his shoulder as he entered the hall, his heavy boots echoing loudly on the stone floor in the now silent hall.

The silence didn't last, however, and as quickly as the hush had fallen over the students, it was replaced with the buzz of excited whispers as the students got their first look at the latest addition to the Hogwarts staff.

Krum looked around the room a bit nervously until his eyes fell on Hermione. He smiled and started to make his way towards her, but he was intercepted by Professor McGonagall swooping down from the Head table to greet her newest teacher.

"I see he's still got that stupid little beard," Ron grumbled, "What a wanker."

Hermione turned quickly on Ron and glared at him as she grabbed her schoolbag and got out of her seat. "Be nice, Ronald…or else!"

Before he could say another word, Hermione turned and rushed off to greet her old friend. She reached him just as Professor McGonagall scurried off. Viktor turned and beamed at her. "Herm-own-ninny…you look vunderful!"

"So do you, Viktor," Hermione replied with a broad smile, "How have you been?"

Ron growled from his spot at the Gryffindor table as he watched Hermione and Krum chatting it up like old friends. He admitted that, yes, they were old friends, but Ron still didn't have to like it.

"Here you are, Mr. Weasley."

Ron looked up and for a second he was hit with the urge to jump to his feet and draw his wand. The closest thing to an Inferious he had ever seen was standing over him. Thin, pale-skinned, sunken-eyed…like the walking dead…the walking dead handing him a piece of parchment.

Ron took the proffered parchment and looked down at it; it was his timetable.

"Thanks, Professor Ghoulsbee," Ron said to his new Head of House. He shoved the parchment into his schoolbag, turning his attention back to Hermione and Krum.

The school's new DADA professor wasn't finished with him yet, apparently, however.

"Perhaps you should also take Miss Granger's timetable, Mr. Weasley," the emaciated-looking professor suggested as he handed Ron another schedule, "Since she appears to be busy."

Ron growled under his breath again as he watched Hermione and Krum. The Bulgarian had just swept her up into a hug and was twirling her around and Hermione was giggling like a schoolgirl.

Admittedly, she _was_ a schoolgirl, but she wasn't the giggling type. To Ron's knowledge, Hermione had only ever giggled a few times since he'd known her, and usually it was at something he had said to her. He liked being the one to make her giggle, so watching her act that way with Krum was an affront that Ron could not let stand.

Grabbing his schoolbag, Ron stomped over to Hermione and Krum, catching the tail end of their conversation about his decision to take a teaching job instead of playing Quidditch.

"Ahem!" Ron cleared his throat loudly as he came up behind Hermione, "Here's your timetable; you're gonna be late for Ancient Runes if you don't get moving."

"Oh, well, I was going to show Viktor to his office," Hermione said, taking the schedule from Ron and stuffing it haphazardly into her schoolbag, "I don't suppose it will matter much if I miss the first class of the term…considering."

"What?!" Ron was completely shocked by what Hermione had just said, "You're going to skive off the first class of the school-year?"

"It's for a good reason," Hermione said, "I think helping the newest faculty member to find his office and his quarters is more important than one class. I'm the head girl, after all, it's my job to help out as much as possible."

"Exactly!" Ron exclaimed, "You're the head girl and what sort of message does it send to all the midgets when the head girl skives off the first day of class in her NEWT year?!"

"Hark who's talking, Ron!" Hermione scoffed, "How many times have you skived off classes for some stupid reason or another?"

"That's different, Hermione, and you know it!"

"It's only different because it was you and not me, Ron!"

"No! It's different because I wasn't head boy then! You want to skive off to show _him_ around the castle, go ahead," Ron said angrily, pointing an accusatory finger at Viktor Krum…the subject of their argument that they seemed to have forgotten was standing there, looking very uncomfortable, "But I better never hear about you lecturing anyone else about skipping class."

Hermione glared at him before giving in. "Fine! I won't take Viktor around, but someone needs to."

"McGonagall will take care of it," Ron said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Mr. Weasley!"

As if on cue, the school's headmistress returned and pinned Ron with her best "stern professor" look. He immediately tried to remember what he could have possibly have done to get into trouble before the first day of class had even begun. When he couldn't fathom what he had done, he opted to try and talk his way out of it…whatever _it_ was.

"It's not what you think, Professor…I can explain!"

"Is that so?" Professor McGonagall said, arching an eyebrow at him, "And what is it exactly that you will be explaining, Mr. Weasley?"

"Err…" he looked to Hermione for help, but she just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, still angry at him from their argument over her duties as head girl, "To be honest, Professor, I don't rightly know what I'm supposed to have done…"

Hermione snorted derisively at him, drawing looks from Ron, McGonagall, _and_ Krum.

"Mr. Weasley, history alone has proven that over the course of the coming school year, I expect there will be many occasions that will require you to explain to me just what you have done and why," McGonagall said in a tone that almost seemed to be tinged with humor, "This, however, is not one those occasions."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, smiling brightly. He looked over to see Hermione scowling at him.

"Now, if you're quite done trying to explain your _future_ rule-breaking," McGonagall continued, "I need you to escort Mr. Krum to his office."

"WHAT?!" Ron and Hermione exclaimed in unison.

Professor McGonagall once again arched an eyebrow as she looked at the head boy and head girl, and then fixed Ron with a look reminiscent of the one she'd used during the Troll Incident back in First Year.

"Why me, Professor?" he asked pathetically. The last thing Ron wanted to do was spend time escorting Viktor Krum around the castle.

"As I understand it, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall explained, "You have a free period after breakfast, unlike Miss Granger who is due in Ancient Runes in a few minutes. Mr. Krum will be teaching his first class this afternoon, and he would no doubt like to prepare. As head boy, it is your duty to help out in whatever capacity I see fit…now off with you!"

"Yes, Professor," Ron sighed, "Come on, you," Ron said to Viktor waving him to follow. He looked over at Hermione, but she stuck her nose in the air and refused to look at him. He shook his head in defeat. First day of school and already she was angry with him. This was definitely not what he signed up for when he agreed to come back to school.

Ron was silent for several minutes as he stomped through the halls of Hogwarts castle on his way to Madam Hooch's old office, the one Krum would be using during his time as her replacement. The only sound to be heard was the sound of his shoes and Krum's boots echoing off the flagstone floor…until Viktor spoke up.

"You are the vun I saw Herm-own-ninny vith at the vedding, yes?" Krum asked, "You and she are together?"

"That's right," Ron said, not bothering to look at the Bulgarian beside him.

"And yet you yell at her?" Krum asked, his voice taking on an accusatory tone, "You embarrass her in front of everyvun…"

"Who the bloody Hell do you think --…"

"If you loved Herm-own-ninny," Krum interrupted sternly, glaring at Ron, "You vould not treat her so poorly, I think."

"Who're you to tell me how to treat _Hermione_?!" Ron snapped, turning and narrowing his eyes at the Bulgarian, "Not that it's any of your bloody business, but yelling is how we communicate."

"I am Herm-own-ninny's friend and I do not like you yelling at her," Krum said, stepping up to Ron and looking up at him.

"You didn't seem to have a problem when she was yelling back, did you?" Ron said as he loomed over Krum by a good six inches.

"You upset her," Krum said, "Herm-own-ninny had every right to yell."

"Her name is _Hermione_, you Bulgarian git! Merlin, I can't believe I once admired you!"

"I do not know what 'git' means, but if it is an insult, you vill apologize now, or else face the consequences," Krum said, gnashing his teeth together menacingly.

"Not bloody likely," Ron laughed derisively. He turned his back on Krum and stomped off, ignoring the Bulgarian as he stood there fuming, "And you can find your own bloody office!"

Ron spent the rest of his free period outside on his broom. He would be holding tryouts for the Gryffindor team on Friday, with the first official practice on Saturday, and he wanted to get in as much time in the air on his broom as possible.

He showed up for Herbology with plenty of time to spare and spent several minutes chatting with Neville, Dean, Ginny, and Luna waiting for the class to start. To his utmost surprise, the class began and Hermione showed up fifteen minutes late.

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione said, handing Professor Sprout a note explaining her tardiness, "I was helping one of the other teachers."

"Just don't make a habit of it, Miss Granger," Sprout said, waving her off.

Hermione moved to the vacant spot at the work table next to Ron and then spent the remainder of class ignoring him. When the bell sounded, signaling the end of class, and Ron reached for Hermione's bag to carry it for her, a tug-of-war broke out as she, obviously, didn't want to let him.

"Let go, Ronald," she hissed, pulling so hard on her bag she feared it might rip.

"What's gotten into you, 'Mione?" he asked, still holding on, determined to carry his girlfriend's books for her, "First you show up late for class, then you ignore me the whole time, and now you won't let me carry your books for you."

"Tell me something, Ronald," she said in that way that made him hate her using his full name. She could use it in a way that made him tingle all over, but when she used it with _that_ tone of voice, it was like dragging fingernails over a chalkboard, "Why is it that I found Viktor wandering around, looking for his office when _you_ were supposed to escort him?"

"_That's_ what this is all about?" he said, looking incredulously at her, letting go of her schoolbag. She hadn't expected him to let go and it dropped heavily to the ground, looking as if it had nearly yanked her arm out of its socket, "You're pissed about darling Vicky having to find his own way to his office?"

"His name is _Viktor_, you prat," she spat, stomping up to him and getting in his face, "And the reason I'm angry is because you shirked one of your head boy duties after lecturing _me_ this morning, and because of it I wound up late for class!"

"And I'm supposed to believe it's got nothing to do with the fact that I left _Vicky_ to find his own bloody office?" he scoffed, "Did you ever stop to wonder why?"

"Even Trelawney could see _why_ you did it, Ronald," Hermione said, still sneering out his name when she spoke it, "You don't like Viktor so you abandoned him in the middle of nowhere!"

"His office was at the end of the bloody hall I left him in," Ron snapped defensively, "If he hadn't thought it was his place to lecture me on the way we argue, I wouldn't have left him in the first place!"

"He's my friend, Ronald!" Hermione replied as if that should make everything better, "Of course he doesn't like you yelling at me."

"I'm your _boyfriend_, Hermione!"

"Exactly, Ronald…you shouldn't _want_ to yell at me."

"Hermione," Ron said waving his hands in exasperation, "This is who we are! We communicate by yelling at each other."

"Not always," Hermione replied, shaking her head.

"No, you're right; not always," Ron admitted, "But when you and I don't see eye-to-eye on a situation, we yell…we have done since First Year!"

"Well, I'm tired of it, Ron," Hermione sighed, looking away, "I'm tired of fighting with you…especially about Viktor."

"So'm I," he agreed.

"Good," she nodded, "I think you should apologize."

Ron shook his head and sighed, "Fine, Hermione; I'm so--…"

"Not to me, Ron," Hermione said, cutting him off, "To Viktor."

"What?!" he exclaimed, "There is no bloody way in Hell that I am going to apologize to Viktor bloody Krum!"

"If that's the case, Ronald Weasley, then I have nothing left to say to you."

And with a huff, Hermione picked up her school bag and walked off in silence towards the castle where lunch and the remaining classes of the day awaited. Ron followed closely behind but try as he might, she wouldn't speak to him.

The rest of the day was spent in agonizing silence between Ron and Hermione. Every time he tried to talk to her, she would either shoot him a withering glare until he shut up, or she would just walk off and avoid him altogether.

After dinner, as Ron exited his dorm with his broom slung over his shoulder – intent on getting in some flying prior to Friday's Quidditch team tryouts – he decided that enough was enough. He leaned his broomstick up against the wall and made his way over to the couch where Hermione was doing her Arithmancy homework and flopped down next to her.

Hermione huffed in annoyance at the sudden interruption at glared at him. Her mouth opened and closed several times like she had something to say, but instead she opted to gather up her books and move over to the work table to finish her homework. She had just resumed her reading when Ron pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

She immediately began gathering up her books again, this time intending to go to her room, lock the door, and study in peace, but when Ron suddenly slammed his hand down on the table, making her jump, Hermione was too stunned to do anything but gape at him.

"We need to talk, Hermione."

"I assure you, Ronald, there is nothing I wish to say to you," Hermione replied in her best snooty tone.

"I never should've come back here," Ron grumbled, shaking his head as he got up and made for his broom, "This is not what I agreed to."

Hermione snorted derisively at him, "Please tell me you don't expect me to _snog you_ after the way you behaved today!"

"I didn't expect a snog, no," Ron admitted, "But I didn't expect the bloody silent treatment, either!'

"I refuse to say anything more to you as long as you continue to swear at me," Hermione replied icily, her arms folded and her nose in the air defiantly.

"What do you want from me, Hermione?" he asked point-blank, sounding as though he were at the end of his rope, "I'm tired of all the arguing and the games, Hermione, just tell me what you want!"

"I want you to stop acting like such an immature git, Ronald. Why can't you just grow up and be more like…" Hermione didn't finish her sentence. She blushed and looked away, knowing as she did that she had said the wrong thing.

"Be more like who?" Ron asked angrily, "Be more like _Krum_?!"

"Viktor is a gentleman who always treats me with respect," Hermione said, jumping to her friend's defense, "Why _can't_ you be more like him?"

"Because _this_ is who I am, Hermione," Ron said, smacking himself in the chest for emphasis, "I'm the same bloke I've always been. I'm sorry if that's not good enough for you."

"I never said that, Ron, all I said was, I wish you'd be more respectful," Hermione replied, suddenly feeling guilty for what she had said. She knew how Ron was…especially about Viktor…and she had all but said he wasn't as good as Viktor, right to his face.

"No, what you said was, why can't I be _more like Viktor Krum_," he said, paraphrasing her, "You want me to be like a bloke that I absolutely hate!"

"I don't understand _why_ you hate him," she said, though in all honesty, she did know. It was fairly obvious at this point, "Viktor is a very nice man."

"To _you_, Viktor is a nice man," he said acidly, "To _me_, Viktor is my rival for your affection!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ron?" Hermione asked in exasperation, "I love _you_, not Viktor!"

"And yet," Ron said coldly, "When he and I butt heads, you take _his_ side."

"Because _you_ were clearly in the wrong!" Hermione shouted, completely frustrated, "Look…I know you don't like Viktor, Ron, but he _is_ my friend, and he _is_ going to be here for some time, so you're just going to have to get used to it."

"I get it, Hermione," Ron said, waving a hand dismissively as he grabbed his broom and headed for the portrait hole.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I said I get it," Ron repeated, not bothering to look back at her, "Krum's your friend while I'm just your boyfriend; so naturally he'll always get the benefit of the doubt."

"Ron, you're being stupid…"

"That's me," he laughed, pushing open the portrait of Fionulla the Fair, "Stupid. I'm so stupid, apparently, that the seven years we've been best friends and more doesn't measure up to the four years you've been penpals with Krum. He must write one Hell of a letter."

"Why are you _being_ like this?!" she screamed, grabbing the back of his cloak before he could leave the head's common room.

Ron turned quickly and glared at her, closing the distance between them and leaning his face in close to her, his blue eyes blazing into hers brown orbs. "Because every second that Krum is around, I'm reminded of how he got to be your first."

"Ron, I told you…there are other firsts…"

Ron sighed and shook his head. She just didn't get it, and he didn't think he could ever make her understand. "Hermione, how would you feel if Lavender was still around and I saw her every day and she and I were such good friends that when you and she got into an argument, I took her side over yours?"

"This is _not_ the same thing!" Hermione shouted, "Viktor is nothing like Lavender!"

"Viktor was _your_ first, Lavender was _mine_," Ron countered, "The only difference is you don't have to put up with me being friends with her and defending her every time you say something bad about her."

"Lavender was a slag!" she replied hatefully, "At no point did I run around the castle snogging Viktor in front of anyone and everyone!"

"No, but you did snog him," he reminded her, "That's the point."

"Well, it's a stupid point," she huffed, waving a hand dismissively at the very notion, "I don't love Viktor!"

"You know, Hermione," he said, narrowing his eyes at her, "I'm starting to wonder why you keep saying that, since I haven't once accused you of loving him. Guilty conscience, perhaps?"

The slap echoed off the walls of the head's common room, "How dare you accuse me of that!"

Ron turned on his heel and stormed towards the portrait hole once again.

"And just where do you think you're going?!" she snapped watching him walk out, "This isn't over!"

"I'm done arguing about this, Hermione," he said, stopping momentarily before leaving the room, "You're never going to see my side; I'll always be the one who's wrong in our relationship."

"Ron…"

"I'm going flying," he said calmly, "I'd invite you to come, but you said yourself, you aren't ready to fly on a broom with me," he said, reminding her of something she'd said over the summer, "And it's best if I go alone to give us both a chance to cool off. I'll see you later."

With that, Ron left the common room, leaving Hermione on her own. Tears started to fall and she kicked the wall in frustration. Why did he have to be this way? Why couldn't he see how nice Viktor was? Why did Ron Weasley have to be such a prat? And why did she have to be so completely, madly, irrationally in love with him?

By the time Ron got back that night, the common room was empty and there was no sign of Hermione. He knocked on her door, wondering if she was still awake. He'd been flying for over two hours and he'd calmed down considerably; so much so that he was willing to grovel at her feet and beg her to forgive him for being such a horrible boyfriend.

He sighed sadly when there was no answer. Either she was already asleep, or she didn't want to talk to him. He feared it was the latter, since he was pretty sure Hermione would be up for at least another hour either doing her homework or reading for leisure.

His head hung in defeat, Ron made his way into his own dorm, dragging his broomstick behind him. He tossed his prized Cleansweep unceremoniously to the floor and began stripping off his cloak.

"You're going to trip over that in the morning, if you don't pick it up."

Ron turned so fast to face the bed that he nearly lost his balance. He had to stumble a bit to catch himself, as he gaped, open-mouthed at Hermione, sitting cross-legged on his bed. She was dressed in her pajamas, and seemed as though she had been waiting for him to return for some time.

"H-Hermione…what're you doing here?"

"I…you're my boyfriend, Ron, and I thought…I…we…" she was nervous and had a hard time looking at him without blushing.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, hanging his head, "About before…"

"No! Ron, _I'm_ sorry!" she said, moving quickly to the edge of the bed and reaching out for him, "Please…I just want to stop fighting."

"Me, too," he sighed.

He looked up when he felt her fingers on his, intertwining and pulling him towards her on the bed. He took a seat next to her on the bed and she immediately threw herself into his arms. He held her close, nuzzling his face in her hair as she wept against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Ron…"

"Me, too, luv," he sighed, rubbing circles over her back.

"You're more important than Viktor, okay?" she said, looking up at him with red, watery eyes, "You're more important than _anyone_."

"Not nearly as important as you, 'Mione," he replied, dropping a soft, tender kiss on her lips, "I'll do my best to be…nice…to Viktor."

"No you won't," she laughed, hugging him tightly, "But that's okay. He's _my_ friend…you don't have to like him. I will try _my best_ not to let him come between us again. Alright?"

He nodded, kissing her again. This time, the soft kiss turned hot and passionate, and the young couple soon found themselves lying on Ron's bed snogging as though there were no tomorrow.

"Stay with me tonight, luv," Ron said several minutes later when they broke the kiss, "Like in Australia…let me hold you."

Hermione nodded her assent and Ron took his wand from his pocket and wordlessly extinguished the lights in the room. In the darkness they moved under the covers, holding each other as though their lives depended on it, neither willing to let go and give up the comfort of the other.

Somewhere in the darkness, the young couple managed to fall asleep between the kisses and the gentle caresses and the closeness of their bodies pressed together managed to keep at bay the nightmares each of them had suffered since the end of the war.


	6. Hermione's Birthday Blues

**A/N:** I would like to apologize to my readers for the fact that it's been more than five months since I updated this story. I never wanted to be one of those sorts of authors who allowed their ongoing stories to just languish about is some sort of Limbo; unfortunately, real life made continuation of this story something I had to forego for a time. To be honest, I don't know when I'll get a chance to update again...but I will try to be more responsible to my readers and my story.

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The Seventh Year Itch

**Chapter 6  
****Hermione's Birthday Blues**

The two and a half weeks leading up to her birthday were more of the same for Hermione; she and Ron would bicker about Viktor and his intentions towards her and then they would make up before going to bed…as often as not, sharing the same bed and holding onto each other for dear life.

The bickering wasn't constant, of course. It occurred mainly on those days when Viktor made a point of seeking Hermione out so they could spend time together. She could tell that Ron felt threatened by Viktor's presence in her life, but she refused to turn her back on one of her friends just because her boyfriend couldn't handle it.

The morning of September 19, however, Hermione awoke with a good feeling about what the day held for her. They hadn't bickered the night before and wound up falling asleep in each other's arms after some intense snogging.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She couldn't help smiling at her boyfriend, and when Ron leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose, Hermione let loose with an uncharacteristic giggle.

"Good morning, birthday girl," Ron said, reaching up to brush a few stray curls out of her face.

"Morning," Hermione replied, smiling brightly, "Have you been lying there watching me sleep?"

"Only for a bit," he admitted, "You're incredibly cute when you're sleeping. It probably has something to do with the fact that you're not yelling at me."

"Prat," she laughed, playfully slapping his arm.

He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing it. "Although, if I'm honest, when you really get going and you're yelling your head off at me, you're incredibly sexy."

"Ronald!" she gasped, blushing furiously. He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed, rolling her eyes at him.

"Happy birthday, luv," Ron said, leaning in and planting a quick kiss on her lips and using the momentary distraction to place a crudely wrapped package on her chest.

She smiled brightly at him as she lifted the small package. It was the size of a box of jewelry and the very thought of Ron giving her jewelry had her tingling with excitement.

"Ron…you shouldn't have," Hermione said as she sat up in bed, her hands shaking as she started to rip open the wrapping paper.

"Actually, luv," he said, looking sheepish, "What I shouldn't have done was give you candy and books for your birthday and Christmas all these years."

"But I like books," she countered, frowning slightly.

"Yeah," he nodded, "But if I'd have given you girly presents instead, you'd have known how I felt about you a lot sooner."

She leaned over and planted a loving kiss on his lips, "You did give me perfume once, and it just sort of confused me."

"I remember that," he nodded, pulling a face, "I gave you perfume and you gave me an obnoxious talking homework planner."

"I am so sorry about that, Ron," she replied, blushing embarrassedly, "It really wasn't my finest gift-giving hour."

"It's in the past," Ron said, kissing her forehead, "Just promise me I won't be getting another planner for Christmas _this_ year."

"I promise," Hermione said, hugging him tightly. She finished unwrapping her present, and, just as she thought, she found herself holding a velvet-covered jewelry box. She opened it and gasped, looking down at the golden charm-bracelet within, "Oh, Ron…it's beautiful!"

"You like it, then?" he asked, smiling.

"I love it!" she replied excitedly, throwing herself at him and kissing him passionately.

Once they broke apart, Hermione extended her arm so that Ron could clasp the bracelet onto her wrist. He did as she wanted, placing a kiss upon her wrist's pulse-point first. As soon as it was secured to her wrist, Hermione began admiring the charms dangling from the bracelet.

"I tried to get charms that were significant to the two of us," Ron explained, tapping the charms with his finger.

The golden charms consisted of a knight chess piece representative of not only Ron's passion for wizard's chess, but of his sacrifice on the living chessboard in their First Year…a cat reminiscent of Crookshanks as well as her mishap with the Polyjuice Potion during their Second Year…a small dog and an otter which, of course, represented their Patronuses…a book which spoke for itself where Hermione was concerned…and, finally, a heart which was also self-explanatory – they were in love, and Ron had given her his heart.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said, her eyes sparking, "I love it so much…and I love you!"

She kissed him passionately and the young couple spent the next half-an-hour snogging each other senseless. They only stopped when Crookshanks jumped up on the bed and made his presence known by meowing loudly and hopping onto the pillow above their heads.

"I think someone's jealous," Hermione laughed as Crookshanks sauntered between them, turning abruptly and whacking Ron in the face with his fluffy tail.

"I think someone's on the verge of being stuffed in Moaning Myrtle's toilet if he doesn't watch with the tail!" Ron grumbled as Crookshanks curled up and snuggled against Hermione, purring contentedly while giving Ron a smug look – as smug as cat's _can_ look, anyway.

"So what's the plan for today?" Hermione asked, ignoring what she knew was an idle threat from Ron. She took to scratching Crookshanks' belly, making the cat purr louder.

Ron tore his eyes away from the cat who had effectively snog-blocked him. "Well, you remember how I made you promise _not_ to start revising for NEWTs until _after_ Christmas?"

"Yes, Ronald," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes, "And as you're no doubt aware, I have not once tried to start revising for my NEWTs…just as I agreed."

"Well, today, luv…since it's your birthday…go nuts," he said, reaching up and playing with a lock of her hair, "I'll leave you alone to revise to your heart's content…but only for today…I want us to meet back here tonight at seven; I have something planned."

"Please don't go out of your way, Ronald," Hermione said, smiling brightly, "This beautiful bracelet was really more than enough."

"It's nothing big, 'Mione," he assured her, "I just want to spend some time with my girl on her birthday."

Her smile brightened even more and they leaned in and shared a loving kiss, despite a disgruntled hiss from Crookshanks. When they broke apart, both were bright-eyed and red-cheeked.

"Seven o'clock, then?" Hermione asked, reaching over and caressing Ron's cheek. He nodded and she nodded back. She couldn't help thinking this was turning out to be her best birthday ever.

Ron entered the Heads' common room and immediately growled in frustration. Despite agreeing to meet him here after dinner, Hermione was nowhere to be seen. As a matter of fact, he hadn't seen her since breakfast. They'd had a nice morning together, during which Ron had given her the charm bracelet he'd gotten her, but once breakfast was over Hermione had gone off to study and Ron had gone off to practice with Ginny. The first Quidditch match was in two weeks and they wanted to be in top form.

He had hoped to see her at dinner, though he knew that if she was off studying and he was off practicing, one or both of them could conceivably skip dinner; which is why they agreed to meet in their common room at 7:00, giving both of them plenty of time to study and practice.

Ron had planned a surprise for Hermione's birthday…nothing elaborate, just a small birthday cake big enough for two people to share – provided one of them possessed Ron's ravenous appetite.

The house-elves made the cake, but they had been happy to do it, and Ron had paid each elf that helped with the cake a single, shiny knut; a pittance, maybe, but since none of the house-elves wanted _any_ payment and Hermione would nag him to death if he didn't pay them _something_, it seemed like a fair compromise.

Of course, without the birthday girl here to enjoy the cake, it was all pretty pointless. Sighing heavily, Ron sat the cake on the table where he had expected to find Hermione poring over her books, and then dropped down onto the couch in front of the fire to wait for her arrival.

Ron wished that Harry had given _him_ the Marauders' Map instead of Ginny; then he would at least be able to find out where Hermione was. Conventional wisdom said that if Hermione was studying, she was in the library; however, since returning to school, she had preferred studying in their common room, since it was private and easier to concentrate without the distractions of other students. Ron, himself, could be rather distracting, but he learned early on that if the Head Boy hoped to get in any snog-time with his Head Girl girlfriend, he'd better let her study in peace.

Ron sighed again and turned his attention away from the portrait hole and began staring at the fire burning in the hearth. The flickering flames proved to be rather hypnotic to Ron and before long, he nodded off.

He didn't know how long he was out, but the sound of someone coming through the portrait hole woke Ron from his slumber and he opened his eyes just in time to see Hermione enter the common room. She smiled at him as she made her way over to the couch where he was sitting, but Ron scowled at her in return.

"Where've you been?" he asked, checking his watch, "I've been waiting her for over an hour."

"It looked more like you were sleeping than waiting," she laughed, trying to ignore his tone, "I'm sorry I'm late, but I brought you something…think of it as a peace offering."

Ron suddenly realized that she had her hand behind her back the whole time. Before he could ask what she was hiding, she brought her hand around in front of her and revealed two large slices of cake wrapped in a napkin.

"Cake?" he said grumpily, shooting her a dark look.

"Black Forest gateau," she replied, trying not to snap at him. She could see that he was angry, and her typical reaction to an angry Ron was to get angry right back and start a row with him; but that was the last thing she wanted to do…especially on her birthday. "Try it; it's delicious."

"Let me get this straight," Ron said, getting to his feet and angrily crossing his arms, "We make plans to meet for some alone-time, and after showing up an hour-and-a-half late, you try to buy me off with a bloody piece of cake?!"

"It's my birthday cake, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, frustrated at Ron's behavior, "Don't you want to have some birthday cake with me?"

"Yes!" Ron shouted, "That's why I've been waiting for you to get here!"

"Then why are you --…oh!"

Ron had moved over to the table, drawing Hermione's attention to the chocolate cake with nineteen unlit candles sitting atop it.

"You did that for me?" Hermione asked softly, the hard edge leaving her voice, "That's so sweet."

"You never answered my question, Hermione," Ron said curtly, his arms still folded angrily across his chest, "Where _were_ you?"

"I'm sorry, Ronald," Hermione said waspishly, her desire _not_ to have an argument quickly fading away, "I didn't realize I had to keep you apprised of my whereabouts at all times. I misunderstood our relationship; I thought you were my boyfriend, not my father!"

"Very nice, Hermione," Ron said with a sneer worthy of Draco Malfoy, "Avoid the question by starting a fight."

"I'm not…_you're_ the one starting the fight, you idiot!" she screamed, falling into an old habit she had been hoping to quit.

"If you just answer the question, there won't _be_ a fight," he said, stomping towards her, "And for the record, _I'm_ not the one calling names."

"No, you're just the one throwing a tantrum because I was out enjoying myself _without you_!" she yelled, "It doesn't matter where I was!"

"So, if _I_ showed up an hour late for a date with _you_, you wouldn't wonder where I was?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"This wasn't a date," she scoffed, "This was just…a planned meeting between two people in a relationship to spend time together!"

"Bravo on a textbook definition of _'a date'_," he said snidely, closing the distance between them, "But if you don't want to tell me where you were…fine. As you said, I'm only your boyfriend…and I reckon, in your world, that means I don't deserve an explanation when you blow off a 'planned meeting' with me. But let me ask you this: where'd you get _this_?"

Ron reached up and drew his fingers across the scarf she had tied around her neck. It was red silk from India with gold lotus blossom accents along the edge. It was beautiful and very expensive.

"It looks to've cost quite a few galleons, and I know you weren't wearing it at breakfast," he let go of the scarf and stepped back, waiting for her answer.

"It was a gift," she said softly. She felt guilty, but then she remembered her anger towards Ron and her voice resumed its hardness, "Today _is_ my birthday after all, Ronald. Or am I not _allowed_ to receive gifts from my friends on my birthday?"

"When did you get it?" he asked calmly, though he was obviously still angry, "I watched you open all your presents before we went to breakfast…and _that_ wasn't one of them."

"I…received it at dinner," she said, the guilt returning and once more softening her voice. Hermione knew where this was leading; she had tried to avoid it. It was her birthday and she didn't want to fight. She wanted to spend the night cuddled up in her boyfriend's arms, but he would know the truth soon enough and he would stop talking to her…for a day…a week…a month…who knew?

"You weren't _at_ dinner," he said, still quite calm despite the fury raging inside of him. He didn't accuse her, but she couldn't help feeling as though there was an accusation in his voice, "I waited for you for over half-an-hour and then gave up and started eating."

"No, I…I was invited to a special birthday dinner by an old friend," she said, looking down at her feet, "We ate in his quarters."

"So, how _is_ darling Vicky?" Ron sneered hatefully.

"Don't call him that, Ron!" Hermione snapped, looking up, her eyes blazing, "Honestly, Ronald, why do you act this way?!"

"Oh, I don't know…maybe because _my_ girlfriend is sneaking around with her old boyfriend, having secret dinners in his private quarters!" Ron shouted, no longer playing at being calm.

"I didn't sneak around," she countered, "And he was never my boyfriend."

"No, you just refused to tell me where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing!" he replied hotly, "And he may not have been your boyfriend, but you can't deny the bloke's in love with you! How else do you explain being the thing he'd miss most, or the fact that he said he'd never felt before what he felt for you?!"

"God's sake, Ron, that was four years ago! I'm sure he's moved on by now," she said, scoffing at him.

"Did he _say_ he moved on, during your little intimate dinner-for-two?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Well, no…actually, he wanted to know what I'd been up to since we saw each other at the wedding. But please, Ronald, do you honestly think he would harbor feelings for me _four years_?" Hermione laughed derisively at the very idea.

"I did," Ron said flatly, "Why wouldn't he?"

"Ron…" Hermione reached over to take his hand, but he pulled it away.

"You're wrong here, Hermione," Ron said shaking his head, his voice sounding defeated, "I'm sorry you can't see that. Good night."

"Ron…!" Hermione took a step towards him, but he stepped back away from her.

Without another word, Ron turned his back and made his way into his dorm, quietly shutting his door and leaving Hermione all alone. Tears were flowing in twin rivers down her cheeks and she was shaking visibly. She was angry and upset and heartbroken and any number of other negative emotions.

"You big idiot!!" she screamed, "Can't you see I love you and not _him_?!"

Before she could realize what she was doing, she picked the cake off the table…the one Ron had gotten for her…and she threw it as hard as she could, splattering it, candles and all, across Ron's dorm-room door.

"You idiot," she sobbed when she realized what she had done; but whether she meant Ron or herself, even she wasn't certain.

She ran into her room and slammed the door, jumping on the bed and burying her face in her pillow, intent on crying herself to sleep. The last thing she did before giving into the exhaustion of despair was to remove the beautiful scarf Viktor had given her…the scarf she had loved when she saw it…and threw it as far from her as she could. She hated it now; hated it for the misery it had caused and what it may have cost her.

A sad little squeak, nearly muffled by the pillow was the last thing heard in the room before she fell asleep…except for the body-wracking sobs of despair.

"Happy birthday to me."

She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but it was still dark when Hermione awoke. Her throat was raw and her head was throbbing from all the crying she had done.

Something had awakened her, however; there was a definite presence in the room with her and for the briefest of seconds, she felt frightened…until she saw the glowing silver Jack Russell terrier sitting in the far corner of the room. Her heart leapt with joy for a moment before she remembered that she and Ron were fighting. Frankly, the fact that Ron was able to think of a memory happy enough to conjure a Patronus while she was completely miserable annoyed her to no end.

"What do _you_ want?" she asked darkly.

The Patronus immediately dropped to its stomach and began belly-crawling submissively and contritely towards the bed. Hermione got the feeling that if it was a real dog, Ron's Patronus would be whimpering and whining as it moved. When it reached the foot of her bed, the silver dog jumped tentatively up onto the mattress, but immediately returned to its apologetic, submissive posture, belly-crawling up the bed until it was close enough to place its head in her lap, looking up at her with sorrowful, silver eyes.

Despite her negative feelings towards Ron, his Patronus still managed to fill her with a sense of warmth, safety, and love…even after the fight. Her eyes welled with tears as she reached down to pet the little silver dog on the head.

"Did he send a message?" she asked in a hoarse whisper, sniffling as she looked desperately expectant at the small dog in her lap.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I was a right bastard for ruining your birthday. I hope you can forgive me."

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione sobbed, sweeping the dog up into her arms and holding it as close to her as possible, "I do…I forgive you!"

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too, Ron," she replied, snuggling her face against the silver terrier.

There was a sudden feeling of silk brushing against her face and when she looked up she saw the scarf Viktor had given her floating in the air above her.

"What…?" she gasped in shock, looking confused at the floating scarf.

"This thing is pretty as well as expensive," came a voice from the darkness, "You shouldn't toss it on the floor like a dirty pair of knickers."

"Ron!" Hermione called in surprise. She'd been so distraught and desperate for a message from him that she hadn't even realized that his voice _hadn't_ been coming from his Patronus, "What are you doing hiding in my room in the dark?"

The scarf dropped onto the bed next to her and she heard movement in the darkness. When he spoke again, his voice sounded much closer.

"I figured I'd lead off with my Patronus," he said from somewhere to her left, "If you let Chudley near you, I figured there was a good chance you'd accept my apology…and then I'd show myself…like so."

The air in front of Hermione shimmied and wiggled for a second before Ron suddenly came into view.

Hermione eyed him archly. "A Disillusionment Charm?"

He nodded and smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "The most brilliant witch I know helped me learn that one. The total package, that witch: brains, beauty, compassion, and a willingness to forgive a bloke no matter how big a bastard he's been."

"Don't push it," she scowled, "Flattery isn't going to work on me tonight."

"Come on, luv, you've already forgiven me," he reminded her.

"That's when I thought the apology was coming from your --…wait a minute," she said, suddenly looking distracted, "You named your Patronus _'Chudley'_?"

Ron was caught off-guard by her sudden change of subject and laughed. "Is something wrong with the name 'Chudley'?"

"No…I just didn't realize we were naming our Patronuses," she said, frowning slightly, "Now I've got to come up with a name for mine."

Ron made to get on the bed with Hermione, waving off his Patronus, "Beat it, pooch!"

The silver Jack Russell wriggled out of Hermione's arms and leapt off the bed, vanishing in a flash of silver light. Ron climbed onto the bed and moved closer to Hermione.

"And just _what_ do you think you're doing?" Hermione asked, injecting as much sternness into her voice as possible, though she didn't feel it. Being so close to Ron…especially after his apology…had her feeling as though his Patronus was still snuggled up to her chest.

"Well, luv, you look like you need something to cuddle tonight," Ron said, smiling a smile that finally did reach his eyes and made Hermione's heart leap, "And since _your_ cat is sprawled out in the middle of _my_ bed, I think we should come to some sort of compromise."

"Such as?" she knew what he was going to suggest as she tingled at the thought of it.

"Let me sleep here tonight," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "And I volunteer to let you hold onto me just as tight as you want all night, and I'll cuddle you back just as tightly."

She made a face as if she were considering his offer. Without a word, Hermione got up and strode across the room, grabbing her wand off her nightstand and lighting it. She dug something out of her wardrobe and then entered the bathroom connecting both dorms.

"'Mione…?" Ron looked nervous when she quietly left the room. He thought, perhaps, she was going to sleep in _his_ dorm alongside her cat. He was just about to go look for her when the bathroom door opened and Hermione came out dressed in her pajamas. "You came back!" he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Well, you didn't think I was going to sleep in the denims and jumper I wore all day, did you?" she returned to the bed, extinguishing her wand and laying it aside his as she joined him, "Now, get over here and hold me."

"Do 'Australia Rules' still apply?" he asked, hopeful that they didn't. 'Australia Rules' meant he had to keep his hands away from any areas normally hidden behind her undergarments. It was the one condition she had made him obey before agreeing to share a bed with him during their time in Australia recovering her parents. Every time they had shared a bed while at Hogwarts, he had asked her if 'Australia Rules' still applied, and every time she had said they do. However, he had hope that one of these days her answer would change, so he kept asking.

Hermione planted a quick kiss on Ron's lips before snuggling into his arms as they lay down. "We're no in Australia anymore, Ron."

The room grew quiet and still as the young couple cuddled together, holding onto one another for all they were worth. Kisses were exchanged and subtle caresses were traded back and forth, and when a large calloused hand slipped up under her top to gently and tentatively cup a breast, Hermione could only arch into the touch and moan in approval.

"Mmm…happy birthday to me…"


	7. The Mea Culpa Chapter

**A/N:** Due to the unsettling negative feedback I received for my last chapter, I decided to try and rectify the situation with this impromptu chapter. I'm employing a much-clichéd technique often used by Hollywood to either undue something unpopular they've done in a long-running TV series or to serve as a surprise ending as a series finale is coming to a close. I'm not proud of it, but I needed some way of fixing the problem.

I will admit that one of the reasons I left this story alone for so long was that I wasn't happy with the direction I was taking it. I decided to give it a go anyway with the stuff I had written, though I should have known it was crap since even I didn't like where it was going. Because of this, I don't know WHEN I will be updating again…everything I had written for this story was more of the same: Viktor coming between Ron and Hermione until everything came to a head, nearly breaking the two of them apart. As that is overwhelmingly unpopular, I will have to re-tool the rest of the series…a complete re-write of all of the completed and partial chapters I have tucked away in my notebook.

I had considered deleting the last chapter after the negative reviews started coming in, but I thought owning up to the fact that I made a mistake and took the story in a wrong direction would be…I don't know…more responsible or something. I screwed up, so I'm going to own it, even if the negative reviews keep coming in (or worse, no more reviews EVER come in).

This chapter is much shorter than I would have liked, but since it was something I hadn't planned on writing and was "whipped up" in just a couple of hours, I'm not too displeased. In fact, were I willing to let this be the final chapter of this story, I'd be fairly happy letting this be the end. I DON'T intend for this to be the end, however…just a little something to try and get the story back on track.

I apologize for the unpopular turn this story took, as well as for the foreseeable delay in any future chapters.

* * *

_**The Seventh Year Itch**_

**Chapter 7**

"**The Mea Culpa Chapter"**

When Hermione awoke, the bathwater surrounding her had gone cold. She hadn't meant to fall asleep in the bath, but it had been so relaxing and peaceful that she had drifted off before she knew it. With pruney, wrinkly fingers, she unstoppered the tub, rising out of the receding water and wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel with a Hogwarts crest in the corner.

Today had been the best birthday she could remember having in the last eight years. All of her birthdays since coming to Hogwarts had been low-key affairs, sometimes forgotten by her friends until the last minute, although none were worse than her twelfth – when she had _no friends_ to celebrate with her – or her eighteenth – on the run with her two best friends, hunting down the pieces of a megalomaniac's soul.

Her nineteenth birthday had begun with her waking up in her boyfriend's arms – something she could grow _very_ accustomed to – and was quickly followed by receiving a beautiful charm bracelet from and then having a rather nice snog with said boyfriend. Breakfast soon followed, with more presents from her friends and family – including the ubiquitous dental hygiene products from her dentist parents. Once breakfast had ended, as promised, Ron left her alone so she could do as much studying as she wanted…and that's exactly what she did.

Hermione's studying came to a halt when an owl arrived, bearing an invitation for her to have tea with Professor McGonagall; she eagerly attended, not wanting to turn down the school's headmistress who had also been her favorite teacher for six years. Tea was enjoyable, and the two witches sat, talking for nearly two hours, reminiscing about the past, discussing the present, and contemplating the future…including Hermione's career prospects.

Around 6:00, Hermione returned to her dorm, intent on getting ready to meet up with Ron in the common room at 7:00. She ran herself a bath of scented water and colored bubbles and had herself a nice long soak. The water had been too soothing, however, causing her to fall asleep, and now, here she was, late to meet her boyfriend.

"I hope Ron isn't cross with me," she said as she noticed she was already forty-five minutes late. She threw on her fuzzy pink bathrobe and tied it securely around herself, hurrying out into the common room.

The sight that met her made Hermione's heart melt. Sitting on the table where she and Ron did their homework was a chocolate cake with nineteen unlit candles and the words "Happy Birthday Hermione" written in white atop the thick, fudgey frosting. The _most_ heartwarming thing, however, was the redhead she saw sprawled out on the couch in front of the fire, softly snoring.

Ron had spent most of the day outside, practicing with his team for the very first Quidditch game of the season. It was only two weeks away and Ron was working hard to make sure his team was ready. Hermione was so proud of the way he was handling himself as head boy and Quidditch captain, despite how hectic it made things for him.

"Poor baby must be exhausted," Hermione said to herself as she took a seat next to him on the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her.

She was tempted to let him sleep, but Hermione knew that if she did, Ron would wake up in the morning with a sore back and a crick in his neck from the unceremonious way he was sprawled out on the lumpy sofa. She also knew that he would be disappointed if he slept through their "date", even if it was just for birthday cake and some alone-time.

"Wakey-wakey, sleepy-head," Hermione breathed huskily into his ear.

Ron's response was to moan slightly and then murmur in his sleep. "Mmmione…so byoo'ful…great tits…"

Hermione blushed at Ron's words, realizing what sort of dream he must be having…and about her, by the sound of it. Part of her wanted to run and hide and let him sleep, but a larger part of her wanted to stay and maybe…just maybe…help make Ron's dreams come true.

It was this larger part of her that won out and made her lie atop him, reveling in his warmth, and begin kissing him for all she was worth. When she felt him wrapping his arms around her and kissing back with equal fervor, she knew she had made the right decision. And when she felt his hand slip down to caress and squeeze her bum through her robe and she felt his arousal press against her thigh, the entirety of Hermione's being couldn't help moaning into Ron's mouth as their tongues battled for dominance.

"What a brilliant way to wake up," Ron said with a cheeky grin once they came up for air, his hand still roaming the perfect roundness of her bottom.

"I agree," Hermione replied, returning his smile, "Though you looked so cute lying here, I was tempted to let you sleep."

"I'm glad you didn't," he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes, "I didn't want to miss our date."

"I don't know, it sounded like you were having a pretty _interesting _dream," she said, smiling and giving him a knowing wink, "You sure you wouldn't have preferred it if I let you sleep?"

Ron blushed deeply as he realized that Hermione knew what he'd been dreaming about. "Err…"

Hermione giggle at Ron, reaching up to caress his deeply pink cheek. "It was a _good_ dream, I take it?"

"It ended _really good_," he said, waggling his eyebrows as he got his embarrassment somewhat under control, "But it was a bit of a nightmare going in."

"How so?" she asked, concerned enough that she chose not to correct his grammar. They had both been plagued by nightmares after the War, and she was worried he'd once again had to relive some of the worst moments of the past year.

"I'd rather not say," Ron said, looking away.

"Ron…you can tell me anything, you know that," Hermione urged, cupping his face in her hand and turning it back to face her, "I'm here for you…always. If it was about the War…"

"It wasn't about the War," he said, shaking his head, "It was stupid, really…more of my insecurities making themselves known I reckon."

"What was it?" she asked, stroking her hand in slow circles across his chest.

"I dreamt you stood me up in favor of an intimate dinner with Vick--…err…Viktor, and we got into a real doozy of a row," he said, sighing.

"Ron…" she rolled her eyes in frustration, "I would _never_ stand you up for Viktor. He's just my friend while you…well…you're the love of my life."

Ron smiled broadly and leaned in to kiss her. "I love you, you bushy-haired know-it-all…you know that, right?"

"I do have an inkling," she said, smiling just as brightly as she returned his kiss with one of her own. "So, I take it…since your dream ended so _well_…that we kissed and made up after our fight."

"Yeah, thanks to Chudley," he said, nodding, "Little silver pooch came through for me again."

Hermione let a bark of laughter, shaking her head incredulously. "Only _you_ would name your Patronus after the Chudley Cannons."

"I reckon you'd have preferred it if I named it after my Dad?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her, "Would _'Arthur'_ have been a better name for him?"

"Harry calls _his_ Patronus 'Prongs' because of his father's animagus form," she said, rolling her eyes, "_Only_ if your father could turn into a Jack Russell terrier would I expect you to call your Patronus 'Arthur'."

"Then I reckon the name _'Chudley'_ will just have to do," he replied with a wink.

She shook her head again, smiling and laughing at her boyfriend's silliness. "I suppose now I'll need a name for _mine_."

"You could name her 'Cannons', then we could --…"

"Absolutely not!" she exclaimed, cutting across him, "I am not naming my otter _'Cannons'_ just so the name of your favorite Quidditch team can live on in our Patronuses!"

Ron smirked at her. He hadn't seriously expected her to agree to the name 'Cannons', but he said it just so he could see her get worked up. "How about 'Swimmy'…since the little bugger swims through the air?"

"Ronald…!" Hermione's exasperated tone made Ron chuckle which just made her narrow her eyes at him, "Be serious; I want a good name for my otter. Something fitting for such a clever --…"

"Minerva," he said, cutting her off.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him, eyes wide.

"Nevermind," he said, shaking his head, "I know…it's stupid. I just thought --…"

"It's perfect," Hermione said, beaming.

"You think so?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, smiling brightly, "Oh, I'll want to ask Professor McGonagall for permission first, of course. But I can't imagine her saying no."

"I reckon the old bird might be honored," he said with a grin.

"Ronald! Don't call Professor McGonagall an old bird…it's disrespectful!" Hermione chastised him.

"Sorry, 'Mione, I was just --…"

"Oh, it's fitting, too, Ron!" she gushed, cutting him off with her sudden shift in subject, "Minerva was the Roman goddess of wisdom and magic…and otters are very clever creatures…and the Patronus _is_ magic, and…oh, you're just brilliant, Ron!"

"Err…thanks, luv," he replied, with a bemused smile as she leaned up and kissed him.

"And now that I think on it, 'Chudley' is the _perfect_ name for _your_ Patronus," she went on excitedly.

"It is?"

"Of course!" she assured him, "The Jack Russell terrier is an extremely loyal dog, Ron, and the Chudley Cannons have never had a more loyal fan than you!"

"You just have it all figured out, don't you, luv?"

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and kissed him deeply. The couple spent several minutes happily snogging on the couch, talk of Patronuses put behind them for now while they gave in to their hearts and hormones. More than half-an-hour passed before Ron pulled away and smacked himself in the forehead.

"Bloody Hell, 'Mione, I forgot! We've got _cake_!"

She laughed at him as he pulled himself up off the couch, taking her hands and pulling her up with him. They moved over to the table where Ron quickly used his wand to light the candles.

"Make a wish, birthday girl," he said, pushing the cake in front of her.

"I've already got my heart's desire," she said, winking at him, "What more could I wish for?"

"I'm sure I could think of something," Ron replied, waggling his eyebrows at her and flashing her his trademark lopsided grin.

"Well then, you make a wish" Hermione said, leaning down and blowing out all nineteen candles in one breath, "And then we'll see if we can't make it come true."

* * *

Hours later, the birthday cake was gone, and as Hermione lay in Ron's arms, feeling safe and content as he slowly traced circles on her stomach with his fingers, she caught sight of the clock on her bedside table. It was 11:59…one minute left before her birthday was over. As she rolled over and snuggled her face against Ron's chest, deeply inhaling his scent as she closed her eyes and prepared to let sleep take her, one final thought entered her head.

_"Happy birthday to me."_


End file.
